


moonlight serenade

by byunderella



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts AU, Hogwarts Inter-House Rivalries, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jihoon Hurts In Everything I Write, Jihoon and Woojin are fucking petty, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Suspense, gryffindor!Woojin, slytherin!Jihoon, so much plot, with a lot of other added elements that aren't in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byunderella/pseuds/byunderella
Summary: The bad blood between Jihoon and Woojin only gets worse when circumstances lead to them sharing a dorm, but the two of them need to overcome their differences and learn to work together against the looming threat hanging over Hogwarts when they wake up one day with matching soul-bond marks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my last big project of the year, here's to the power of destiny.

 

 

paradigm (noun).  
**\ ˈper-ə-ˌdīm , ˈpa-rə- also -ˌdim \**  
example, pattern; especially : an outstandingly clear or  
typical example or **archetype**.

 

 

* * *

 

   

 

paradigm — i.

 

_to the times we have and will spend_

_this marks the beginning of only one end_

 

 

Year seven.

 

The year full of lasts. The last train ride, the last charms class, the last feast in the Great Hall, and the last time to make a lasting impression. Woojin would never admit out loud how much of a sucker he is for happy endings, but when he spent the entire summer gushing to his friends about how great their last year at Hogwarts would be, you had ought to believe he would do everything in his power to make it a reality.

 

The year he had received his letter had easily been the best year of his life—it was the year he had been able to explore his magical powers, met his best friends, and gained a bit of hope for his future and what he was meant to be. As an eleven-year old, Woojin hadn’t found much interest in the things he’d learn in school, as good as he was at them. But magic, that was a whole other _realm_ of knowledge, a different kind of enlightenment he didn’t know he was looking for. And he’d easily proven his competency first year, surpassing a number of his classmates in every class. Magic was Woojin’s greatest talent, and the proud looks on his parents’ faces when he’d tell them about his accomplishments was only the cherry on top.

 

He’d always been described as an adventurous soul, the leap-before-you-look type, which soon became a struggle to some of his friends. Sometimes his passion was overwhelming to the people around him (certainly to his professors), but people would tell you he’s the type of friend everyone desires, one who would fight with you and for you until the end. Woojin is everything you would expect from someone who’s heart bleeds red and gold, and that kind of house pride is everything they need to win their last house cup and make their last year truly one to think back proudly on.

 

Woojin strides down the train, greeted by a number of his classmates and lower years along the way. It doesn’t take him terribly long to find his friends, with how rowdy they could be, especially when put together. He slides the door to the compartment open, cheerfully greeted by his best friends, already chatting away to catch up on a summer’s worth of stories.

 

“Oh, Woojin! Long time no see!” Jaehwan chirps, almost jumping up from his seat in excitement.

 

Woojin takes a seat next to his long-time friend Daniel, a seventh year Hufflepuff, as he lets out a chuckle, “Jaehwan, what are you going on about? I literally bumped into you a few minutes ago.”  

 

“Aw, he just misses you but doesn’t want to admit it.” Daniel explains, eyes forming crescents with his amusement.

 

“Oh, I don’t think it’s a _Gryffindor_ you’re missing.” Woojin waggles his eyebrows at his friend, who goes as red as his robes at the implication. “Who knows? Maybe Minhyun will be the other head boy this year and I’ll share a dorm with him, spill all of your secrets over some mugs of butterbeer.”

 

After the influx of first years set to join Hogwarts for the upcoming school year, Headmistress Kwon had decided to implement a head boy or girl from each house, to better the oversight of all of the students and regulate behavior more efficiently. Woojin hadn’t completely expected to receive a letter that summer congratulating him on becoming Gryffindor’s head boy for his final year, but he was nonetheless ready to take on the responsibilities, and even more so thrilled to learn he would have a separate dorm (to be shared with the other head boy, of course), meaning a room all to himself.

 

As much as he loved living with his friends in the Gryffindor dorms throughout his time spent at Hogwarts, it was no secret to anyone how messy Jaehwan was, or how loud other students in the common room would be at ungodly hours of the night. A quiet dorm would do wonders for his studying, especially with NEWTs coming up. Of course, he would never let the stress of exams overwhelm his resolve to make his last year a great one—that was a plan that nothing, not even NEWTs, could tarnish.

 

Jaehwan smacks the dark-haired boy beside him, “Hyunmin, can you please stop him before he slips up and ruins my life?”

 

“Sorry dude, but we all know a confession is way overdue. Besides, you know Woojin can hold down alcohol well, butterbeer is _nothing_ to him. You’ll be fine.” Jaehwan rolls his eyes at the three snickering boys, stuffing a chocolate frog into his mouth and turning to face the window.

 

“So you don’t actually know who the other head boys and girls are this year?”

 

“Not a clue.” Woojin shakes his head, “Though I suppose I’ll figure it out soon enough, I should be headed to the heads’ compartment soon.”

 

“You’re leaving already?” The sudden change in Jaehwan’s mood is considerably humorous, “But I haven’t even finished telling my story about the time I—”

 

“And _that_ is my cue to leave.” Woojin cuts him off abruptly, standing up to head out. “See you guys at the Start-of-Term Feast.” He snickers at the ‘ _I hope you choke on slugs, Park Woojin!’_ thrown at his back before making his way down the train until he comes across the compartment marked _Heads_. He smiles at the word, taking a deep breath before sliding the compartment door open.

 

But as soon as the door opens he finds himself face to face with the last person he would have thought to be behind these doors. “Jihoon?” His faces falls along with the drop of his voice, unaware of the sneer on his face until he feels the corners of his mouth twitch considerably.

 

The brunette mirrors his expression instantly, “ _Please_ tell me you’ve got the wrong compartment.”

 

Speaking from a rational point of view, there’s not much depth behind their ongoing rivalry. Ever since first year he’d hear negative things about Slytherins—that they were a house of questionable morals, that many of the people locked up in Azkaban were Slytherins. He didn’t think much on it, though he’d never care to question it either. And then in third year he’d properly met Jihoon in his Defense of the Dark Arts class, who had the time of his life laughing at him when it was revealed his boggart took the form of a huge fly, no bigger than a single Bertie Bott’s bean. They had argued until Professor Appleby had to physically split them apart before they could escalate the fight any further.

 

Ever since then, Woojin and Jihoon had always been conscious of each other, whether it was in classes they shared, or passing each other in the corridors. They would send nasty insults back and forth, compete for the top scores in classes and brag about how many points each of them had racked up for their respective houses. But in spite of all of this they had never actually talked, not properly anyways. And Woojin isn’t even sure Jihoon knew how to hold a conversation beyond snarky comments and egotistic input. Woojin thinks there’s absolutely no way they would make it to the end of the year without one of them killing the other.

 

Woojin’s eyes fall to glare at the green tie, then back up to the pair of angry brown eyes. “I'd like to say the same. You cannot _honestly_ expect me to believe that you’re the other head boy.”

 

Jihoon’s mouth quirks up into a smirk at that, “If you’ve forgotten, I happen to surpass you in a _number_ of classes. I see nothing to be surprised about.”

 

Woojin’s scoff is instinctive; the only reason Jihoon does better than him in potions is because he’s practically devoted himself to being Professor Caldwell’s lap dog for years, nothing more, nothing less. He does, however, deliberately choose to ignore the other classes Jihoon places first in. He pushes past the Slytherin, sliding his luggage into the cabin. “Not sure why you look so amused at this predicament.” He remarks, taking a seat on the right side. “You do realize we’re meant to share a dorm this year, right?”

 

“I’m well aware, Gryffindor.” Jihoon crosses his arms as he takes a seat across from him, his posture perfectly perpendicular to the walls, perhaps in an attempt to seem mature, though he knows neither of them are thrilled by the situation. “I’m as irked about it as you are, don’t get me wrong.”

 

“Wonderful, at least we’re on the same page about something.” The cabin goes quiet after Woojin’s words, with Jihoon picking up the book he had been reading before Woojin had shown up and sticking his nose in it, clearly unwilling to make any further conversation with him.

 

Jihoon had always been a sight to see—no amount of hatred could make Woojin deny that, at least not in his own mind. But in all of their years at Hogwarts, he’d never gotten the chance to be this up close with him for this long. His brown hair had always hung loose around his face, bangs neatly fallen across his forehead. Looking at it now, it’s slightly messy, he thinks maybe purposely, creating a tousled effect that managed to look good on him. Then he notices the round glasses framing his eyes, working to soften his trademark surly expression.

 

When he becomes conscious of the thoughts swirling around his mind he stands up abruptly, earning a weird look from the Slytherin. “I’ll make the first rounds.” He says before slipping out of the compartment to patrol. At this point, he’d rather deal with the rowdy first years than stay in that cramped carriage with his archenemy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Upon crossing the Black lake, Woojin does his job to lead the first years to the castle, towards the Great Hall where the rest of the students start to gather for the Great Feast. After herding some lost first years wandering the corridors to the doors of the hall, he makes his way to the Gryffindor table where Jaehwan and Hyunmin have left an empty spot open for him.

 

Headmistress Kwon says some words of welcome before they start the ceremony, with the first years being sorted into their respective houses. Woojin enthusiastically greets the children that rush excitedly towards the Gryffindor table until everyone is seated and the Feast finally begins.

 

"Hey, did you hear?" Hyunmin starts in a whisper, "About the real reason why there are four heads this year?"

 

"So they can keep you in check?"

 

Hyunmin almost whacks Jaehwan in the arm with his chicken leg, but decides against it, for the well-being of his chicken. " _No_. But apparently there's someone in this school who's been receiving threats from an unknown source. They're upping security, protection, and supervision in every way, just in case the threat goes beyond that student and harms the rest of the school."

 

"Do you know who the student is?" Woojin frowns, Hogwarts had always been a safe school, for as long as he's attended at least. Stories about lurking evil and massively destructive use of dark magic had always been just that—stories. Though he supposes the chances of the Wizarding World being roamed only by good wizards is slim to none. He just never figured it would involve anything even remotely related to him.

 

Hyunmin shakes his head, "No clue, but I'm placing my bets now on a Slytherin. You know those snakes are always up to no good, I reckon one of 'em is caught up in some bizarre family drama, and now they're putting our whole school in danger."

 

"You better not be picking fights with Slytherins and bringing up family, Hyunmin." Chungha chimes in from their side. Woojin notices her hair is back to her natural black, after having dyed it blonde for the summer. He'd often see her spend her summers taking dance classes at his studio back in London, though they'd never exchange much words past small talk during breaks. It was odd but also kind of refreshing, to see a pureblood indulge themselves so passionately in the muggle world. "Say what you want to people about problems you have with them but the minute you bring family into it is the minute you lose."

 

" _Oh_ , that's right, there’s no way I’d win because of my blood status, right?" Woojin feels the air grow tight, sees the tension in Hyunmin's shoulders and the regretful look on Chungha's face.

 

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Chungha's voice drops to just above a whisper.

 

Hyunmin keeps his gaze fixated on the table, simmering though he keeps it contained, "Tell that to the arrogant gits who bag on my blood status in this day and age." He mumbles, continuing to stuff food into his mouth. Chungha presses her lips into a thin line, Woojin gives her an apologetic smile when she catches his eye before she turns back to her friends.

 

"So," Jaehwan tries his hand at changing the mood, "Did you meet the other heads on the train?"

 

Woojin sucks in a cheek, eyes falling onto a certain Slytherin across the room, "Met ‘em all in the prefects’ carriage. You won't believe the torture I'm going to be put through this year."

 

"Is it Minhyun? Please don't say it's Minhyun." Jaehwan cups his hands over his mouth, not daring to speak his name any louder.

 

Woojin snickers, "You're lucky, Minhyun’s just a prefect this year. Guess who I ran into in the boy's head compartment."

 

"Oh, don't tell me you're living with a Slytherin."

 

Woojin shuts his eyes, a tight-lipped smile forcing its way onto his face, "The worst kind."

 

"Is it Jihoon?" Hyunmin asks incredulously, before bursting out into a fit of laughter, "Oh, that is _rich_!"

 

He scowls at his friend, kicking him in the shin. Hyunmin whines, leaning over to clutch his leg, "You think my misfortune is funny?"

 

"I think it's hilarious!" Jaehwan adds, equally as amused.

 

Woojin rolls his eyes, angrily poking at his mashed potatoes. When he looks up his eyes unconsciously drift back to the Slytherin table, but when he finally finds Jihoon, he realizes the other had already been looking. They meet gazes for a moment, a mere second free of scowls, until Woojin comes back to his senses and snarls at the brunette before returning back to his friends where finds Hyunmin looking at him curiously, "You know what would be even more hilarious?"

 

"Not talking is always an option."

 

"—If you two end up having some kind of enemies to lovers story." Woojin makes the most repulsed face he can, "I mean, think about it. You two, living together and sharing a common room alone. You're attracted to guys as much as you are girls, you could totally end up falling for each other."

 

"Are you _mad_? Me and Jihoon?" Woojin spits out, sizing his friend up like he's about whip out his wand and hex him right then and there in front of everyone. "I guarantee you that never in my life or in any lives before or to come will I fall for _him_."

 

Hyunmin chuckles, but gives him an acknowledging nod, "You're right, he's part of _that_ house after all. You of all people would never get involved."

 

Woojin tilts his head pointedly, “Exactly.”

 

 

* * *

 

  

After leading the first years to the Gryffindor dorms, Woojin makes his way to Headmistress Kwon's office for a meeting with the other heads. When he arrives he finds Jihoon, Sophia and Jieqiong already seated, Professor Appleby and Kingsley at Kwon's side.

 

"Ah, Woojin dear, there you are. Have a seat, quickly." Woojin slides into the chair next to Jihoon, sparing him a quick glance. "Now, as you may have heard, there have been some worrying threats posed against a student here at Hogwarts. We've taken measures to have as much eyes on the entirety of the student body as we can, until we can figure out who is behind these threats. If any of you see or hear of anything suspicious, report to me immediately. And for the time being, try to keep this information to yourselves, we don't want to cause worry to the rest of the students."

 

All four of them nod, a growing trepidation filling Woojin. He hadn't actually thought hard on what a threat could mean for the safety of him and his classmates, but hearing confirmation from Kwon herself is all the more worrying.

 

“And not to forget, with this responsibility requires maturity and sophistication. You four are expected to uphold the reputation of previous heads and Hogwarts in a good manner, which means,” Kwon looks pointedly between him and Jihoon, “ _No_ quarrelling. I’m aware you two have not been on the best terms for a long time, and though I’m not too sure why you haven’t been able to put your differences aside yet, I’m hoping you’re both smart enough not to let that get in the way of performing your duties.”

 

“Of course, Headmistress.” Jihoon says amiably, and Woojin has to hold back a scowl, nodding as well.

 

They're dismissed shortly after, with Appleby taking Sophia and Jieqiong to their dorms and Kingsley leading him and Jihoon to theirs. When they reach the portrait, of which Woojin recognizes to be Giffard Abbott, he sighs wistfully, "Oh, to be young again!"

 

"Alright Abbott no need to delay the children, give them the password." Kingsley tells him, to which he complies.

 

"Oh, very well then. _Semper Fidelis_."

 

Jihoon repeats after him, and the portrait swings open promptly. Woojin follows the brunette into the common room, where he expects somewhat of an odd clash of their house colors to decorate the shared space. Instead, it stays a neutral palette, a large gray rug laid across the dark wood floor, ivory couches in front of the fireplace. Two staircases on both sides where Woojin thinks probably leads to their rooms.

 

"Woojin, your room is to the right, Jihoon's to the left. I assume you can take it from here.” They both bid the professor a goodbye, and the portrait swings closed behind him, leaving the two of them alone.

 

Woojin shoots Jihoon a glare before making his way up the right staircase towards his room. When he opens his door he’s greeted by the familiar combination of red and gold, a four poster bed against the far wall and a desk to his left. His belongings are lined up against the edge of the bed, along with Cerberus, his brown owl. He smiles softly and kneels next to his cage, tapping lightly, “Hey Cerberus.”

 

He carries the cage and places it onto the desk, and only after cooing at Cerberus a few more times does he notice the figure leaning against his doorframe. Jihoon watches him with a look in his eyes that Woojin can’t decipher, raising a brow, “You named your _owl_ Cerberus? Wow, you are a paragon of wit.”

 

He shoots the brunette a look, miffed by his dripping sarcasm. Jihoon had always been a know-it-all, someone who seemingly couldn’t live if he didn’t throw an insult at someone every few seconds. And to know he’d be on the receiving end of most of those for the entirety of his final year is nothing short of detrimental. “What’s it to you?”

 

Jihoon ignores him, looking around the room. “Never really fancied red, how can you stand such a hideous room?”

 

Woojin sneers, crossing his arms. Surely red and gold would be easier on the eyes than the ghastly green and silver that Jihoon had to put up with. “Well let’s see yours then.”

 

Jihoon smirks, casting him a suggestive look, “Now, now Gryffindor. I know you wanna get me in bed but don’t you think you’re being a little too upfront about it?”

 

He rolls his eyes immediately, almost gagging. “For merlin’s sake, shut your ego up for _one_ second. I didn’t actually care anyways.”

 

“Uh-huh, suuure.” Jihoon drawls out, “You Gryffs are always so easy to read. Well, have fun in your cute little shack.” The older turns away and exits his room.

 

Woojin doesn’t know what Jihoon wants out of him, but he knows what _he_ wants out of the whole situation, if it could ever be even remotely possible. Civility. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t want to think of Jihoon as a friend and doesn’t want to waste his breath on claiming him an enemy. The sooner he gets Jihoon’s taunting out of his face, the sooner he can focus on more important things, like his friends and NEWTs and quidditch. After all, he was chosen to be captain for the second year in a row, and his entire house is depending on him to lead them to another Quidditch Cup win.

 

Trivial things like getting caught up in Jihoon’s perpetual storm don’t have a place in his agenda.

 

 

 

 

 

 

paradigm — ii.

 

 

  

Jihoon had never deliberately sought to be an enigma, circumstance had only made it so. For every person that said he was a quintessential Slytherin, there was another who’d challenge it. But even after countless attempts of assumptions and inquiry, Jihoon didn’t care to explain or resolve any of them. So people could say he was arrogant, overly competitive, power-hungry—everything a Slytherin was thought to be, but no one could pin him down to a single narrative.

 

In hindsight, it was best that no one truly knew anything about him. He doesn’t know if he’d be met with an overwhelming amount of pity or fear, but neither were what he wanted to deal with, and so secrets were kept where they were meant to, hidden and sealed in the back of his mind. You couldn’t find anyone at Hogwarts who could confidently tell you what kind of person Jihoon is and why he’d grown up to be that way. His personal life is his, and Jihoon thinks that’s how he’d like to keep it.

 

But even as someone so complex and inexplicable, it’s ridiculous that Jihoon is able to find the embodiment of everything that is the complete opposite of him. As if on cue, Woojin takes his exit from the bathroom located in between their rooms, and more or less walks right into him.

 

Woojin, the school’s beloved quidditch star. Everything about him is spiteful. He’s reckless to a fault, too stubborn for his own good and is constantly dancing the line between bravery and sheer stupidity. He likes to pretend to be a leader but doesn’t hesitate to follow the crowd of unreliable and biased opinions. Woojin is a counterfeit hero and Jihoon is _sick_ of everyone holding him up on this pedestal like he’s anything to talk about.

 

And it’s not like Jihoon _purposefully_ studies Woojin enough to discern that he’s bulked up over the years, especially over this past summer, he just does. It's not _his_ fault that Woojin walks out of the bathroom half naked, knowing full well he doesn’t live alone.

 

“Uh, do you _need_ something?” Woojin’s voice brings him out of his reverie, snapping back into his initial annoyance when he sees the borderline-teasing raised eyebrow.

 

“Maybe for you to move away from the bathroom door?” Jihoon tells him crossly, folding his arms over his chest.

 

"Prickly in the morning, aren't we?" Woojin says with a lilt in his voice, that irks Jihoon more than anything.

 

"Just get out of the way before I hex you, Red." And with that, Jihoon takes it upon himself to shove Woojin out of the way before he can attempt to move and slams the bathroom door on his face.

 

Though Jihoon wishes their interactions wouldn't have to go beyond seeing each other in their dorm, he remembers he’s stuck with the Gryffindors in Potions, a class he would have enjoyed a whole lot more if it was with the Ravenclaws, or even the Hufflepuffs. But it ends up being gratifying as it goes on, when he watches Woojin grow increasingly fed up with the way Caldwell continuously praised his mixture. It gets even more amusing when Woojin's passive aggressiveness ruffles a little more than one of Caldwell's feathers, to which Caldwell takes five points from Gryffindor for talking back.

 

Woojin is still seething when he walks out of the classroom, and Jihoon takes it upon himself to be his wonderfully aggravating self and blocks the younger’s path on the way out. "Wow Red, you get appointed head boy and on the first day of classes you lose points for your house?" He shakes his head, clicking his tongue provokingly. "How disappointing."

 

The younger sneers, "Can it, lap dog. You don't have the right to be talking me down, not in _this_ class."

 

Jihoon smirks, thoroughly enjoying every moment of this, loves how he can get under his skin so easily. "I'm just concerned about our reputation, you know, as heads. We don't want you ruining it for the rest of us, that would be selfish."

 

Woojin takes a step closer, hovering over Jihoon, though not by much since they’re nearly the same height. "You don't get to talk to me about selflessness, vermin. You don't have a generous bone in your body, so keep walking."

 

He bites back his next comment when he sees Caldwell peeking out of the classroom at them questioningly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." With a quick tug at his tie that had gotten a little too suffocating somewhere in the conversation, he gives Woojin one last look before he walks away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon finds Daehwi and Jinyoung in the courtyard after his Ancient Runes class on Thursday, resting in the shade under their usual tree. As usual, Jinyoung is going on about his love for astronomy while Daehwi nods every now and then, though it’s clear he isn’t paying much attention.

 

If there’s anyone Jihoon could truly call a friend at the school, it would be Daehwi and Jinyoung. Landing in the same room in his second year while Daehwi and Jinyoung joined in their first, they’ve been practically attached at the hip ever since. Daehwi had been quite a surprise to Jihoon; at first glance he wouldn’t have pinned him as a Slytherin, but as they grew up he watched as the boy’s ambition skyrocketed, a result-driven, task-oriented kid who always looked at the big picture and aimed for the whole of it. He was a cute kid with a bite in his words, but loyal to anyone who earned his trust. Jihoon had always admired the younger, he reminded him of himself in a lot of ways.

 

Jinyoung wasn’t too memorable the first time he’d met him, his expressions only being alternated between brooding and prudence. He definitely hadn’t expected Jinyoung to start cracking jokes not too later into the year, high-pitched laugh resonating throughout their shared room. He liked to stir up trouble with other Slytherins, often playing pranks on classmates from other houses. He would hardly ever get in trouble for it though, he was strong enough on self-preservation to keep himself out of bad limelight. Most of his pranks were on the fun side anyways, Jinyoung had always believed that recognition and respect could come from companionability just as much as envy or fear (though he also strongly believed in karma, so that might account for some of the reasoning behind that belief. The less things people had against you, the lesser the chances they’d thrown you under a bus.) After all, Jinyoung had to keep a decent track record if he was going to continue to attended the school, if not solely for Astronomy class.

 

Jihoon doesn’t think he would be as interested as he is in Astronomy if it wasn’t for Jinyoung’s overwhelming enthusiasm for it. Jinyoung liked the concept of the stars, he’d always talk about how everyone’s stories were written among them, in the spaces between, scattered across the expanse of the sky. Someone in an entirely different country was under the same sky, unthinkably holding a story or two of his above their head. Maybe the ones above him were stories just like his, in languages he couldn’t understand. Maybe they were stars waiting to be picked, as lessons passed on from person to person, limitlessly dwelling for anyone who wanted to grow. It was cheesy but it sold him, and gave Jinyoung the profoundness and depth he has today. (Jihoon would never admit it out loud, but he’d always been somewhat of a dreamer.)

 

In their fifth year, he remembers how things started to become considerably different. Jihoon easily grasped the way the air got more rigid, awkward, whenever the three of them were together. And he’d known it hadn’t been because of _him_ , so it could have only resulted from a conflict between those two, and he would have to be blind not to see what it was. Near the end of their second year, Jihoon had started to pick up on some sort of endearment, something of adoration in the both of them towards each other. He’d see the way Daehwi studied Jinyoung, gazed at him in reverence and wonder at his profundity. And then he’d see the way Jinyoung looked at Daehwi, as if he was actually one of the stars in the sky he constantly went on about—like he was the very physical manifestation of one of those twinkling specks, something he would grow to need and cherish more than anything else. Of course, Jihoon would never say anything about it, not when it was fun to watch the two of them tip-toe around their feelings like they were actually being anywhere near subtle about it. It had taken a torturously long time to resolve it, but in fifth year Jinyoung had finally confessed that he had feelings for the other, quite literally told him he was a gift from the sky. And to relief of everyone else who had been watching them, they had become a couple, Jihoon would even say Slytherin’s own power couple.

 

Daehwi catches sight of Jihoon as he takes a seat on the grass. “What’s got your wand in a knot?” The younger surmises immediately, lifting his head from off of Jinyoung’s lap. Clearly the exhaustion from the past week was evident in his walk and his face.

 

“Woojin, that’s what.” He grumbles, leaning back onto the tree trunk. “Can you believe the professors thought that _this_ combination would be the best to lead the student body? What a load of rubbish.”

 

Jinyoung snorts, clearly having the time of his life watching Jihoon’s suffering. “What’d he do now?”

 

“He had his friends over in the Head dorm last night and they were ridiculously loud. How do they expect me to sleep through that? Woojin alone screams like a fucking banshee it drives me nuts!” Jihoon throws his hands up exasperatedly, grounding his jaw.

 

“I think that was the point, mate.” Daehwi contributes, “It’s no secret how petty the both of you are, especially towards each other. Honestly, I’m more surprised that Kwon thought either of you even deserved that spot.”

 

Jihoon gasps in indignity, “I’m deserving of the position! It’s _him_ that doesn’t deserve it. It’s like we’re the only ones in this whole bloody school that see him for his immaturity and fake compassion! I don’t care that he’s something of a hero to the rest of the school, he’s ignorant and narrow-minded and he’s annoying.”

 

“Oh, you know what we should do?” Jinyoung starts, a mischievous glint in his eye, “We should play a prank on him!”

 

Jihoon’s ears can’t help but perk up at the suggestion, “Like what?”

 

“Like completely mess with his head or something. You can have him on strings like a dancing marionette by the end of this! But you’re gonna need to awe him, _seduce_ him—”

 

Jihoon holds a hand up to stop him, lip curling in disgust. “Mm, not that far.”

 

Jinyoung slumps his shoulders, “Okay, uhhh—oh! Why don’t we use the fact that you live with him to your advantage. I mean, we have access to all of his belongings, we could totally mess with him!”

 

“As much as I’d love to do that, I can’t jeopardize my position.” Jihoon decides, regrettably, “Kwon is like one of the only adults that doesn’t see me in a bad light, disappointing her would mean losing that support.”

 

Jinyoung purses his lips, considering thoughtfully, “Alright, well, _you_ can’t partake in it, but it doesn’t mean that _we_ can’t.”

 

The raven-haired boy gestures between him and Daehwi eagerly, who’s eyes-widen at the suggestion. “Nope, no, nu-uh. I have a rep to uphold and if I’m gonna go places then I can’t have _anything_ bad on my permanent record.”  

 

Jinyoung pouts, upset. “You guys are no fun.” But his moping is quickly replaced with excitement. "Well, on the bright side, we have our first astronomy class in a few, can I get a hell yeah?" Jihoon and Daehwi give each other knowing looks before turning away from Jinyoung and striking up a much more interesting conversation than their next class. "Aw, come on! Not even a moderately enthusiastic _yay_?"

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even when it’s adorned with silver and emerald, even when it’s made to be specifically for him, it doesn’t feel like his. Nothing ever feels like his, nothing ever feels like _home_. There’s a weird sort of confusion that passes through him every time he walks into his room, kind of like the feeling of not knowing why you decided to go somewhere in the first place. Maybe it’s the reason why Jihoon always has a hard time sleeping, for a place that was supposed to be considered his home, it couldn’t feel more foreign.

 

When forcing himself to nap doesn’t work he just lies on his bed, lost in his daydreams—the closest he can get to an escape. He wonders what it's like to feel completely free, to be unapologetically happy. Muggles, they could go on for years debating the very existence of magic—the wonders, the limits, the darkness. They could theorize and fantasize but it would never be real to them, not in the way it is to him, always present and always dangerous. Muggles have their fun thinking about what could be if the world was a world of magic, but Jihoon—sometimes all Jihoon thinks of is what it would be like to be free of it all. In another life, maybe he was. Maybe in that life a home was more than just a word, and reality was just as good as dreaming.

 

Dreamland is quite literally shattered in front of him, _what ifs_ and _could be’s_ float up and dissipate into thin air when Woojin calls his name, or rather, screams it from across the dorm for a reason that goes completely over his head. It's not like he'd cursed the objects in his room to bite at him or stole Cerberus the not-a-multi-headed-dog-but-an-owl Owl, at least he doesn't _remember_ doing anything of the sort. So he's too sure why he has to go out of his way to acknowledge this screaming, especially not when he could be resting on his bed, pretending like Woojin is only a figment of his imagination.

 

Maybe it was a wrong move on his part to start laughing the second he saw him, but he can't help it. Not when Woojin is jumping around like he's in a bubbling pit of lava, high-pitched scream bouncing off of the walls as he points frantically at his bed, which Jihoon sees is filled with insects, or at least, insect-like objects. When he moves to get a closer look, he picks one of them up and realizes it's fake, that everything on his bed and his nightstands are merely creepy crawly prank devices.

 

This is how his laughing fit grows even more obnoxious, and this is where the problem arises. "Oh, you really _are_ severely terrified of bugs, that's hilarious! You do realize these are fake right?" Woojin's face falls immediately, back straightening. Jihoon holds one up for him to see, "They're prank devices, I mean, that much is obvious from how many there are."

 

In his defense, _anyone_ , even one of Woojin’s closest friends would have laughed if they had seen the sight that he had. But when he’s down to his last huff of laughter he hears Woojin let out a harsh breath, head lowered with clenched fists and he realizes just what kind of position he’s put himself into. "You are so fucking dead to me, Park Jihoon."

 

 

 

 

 ☾

 

  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very nervous for this but also super excited for this aaa my last big project like this was cihp and it's been 13 months since that ended, and now i'm back with another chaptered fic!
> 
> feedback is very much appreciated, i'd really like to know how you're enjoying it so far, what you're expecting, and anything else you'd like to tell me! 
> 
> i've started an archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella)
> 
> and here's my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella) if you have any questions!


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

enmity (noun).  
**\ en·mi·ty | \ˈen-mə-tē \**  
positive, active, and typically  **mutual**  hatred or ill will.

 

 

* * *

    

 

 

enmity — i.

 

_rest calm and serene_

_hero in all eyes_

_sit in your makeshift castle_

_of bias and comfort lies_

 

 

 

 

Jihoon doesn’t like to give reactions, doesn’t want to give people the satisfaction of getting to him. If someone threw a stereotype in his face he’d keep it blank and walk on past them. If someone raised their voice he’d balance it with his steady own, low and calm, callous and detached. No one had ever actually given him a good enough reason to get snappy, to burst like he wasn’t strong enough to control his own emotions. But it’s only been half a day since the Woojin-bug incident happened and he’s already had five run-ins with a number of Woojin’s friends (and even people who weren’t actually close with Woojin but had still spited him for it anyways), and his patience, even as good as it is, is running thinner by the minute.

 

“Jinyoung, I know it was you.” Jihoon grits through his teeth in a last effort to keep up his composed display. This entire thing had been Jinyoung’s fault—Jinyoung and his penchant for cataloguing the fears, the peeves, the ticks of everyone he meets for later use against them. Sure, often times it was impressive, but when it was only working to inconvenience him he wasn’t just going to sit around and do nothing about it.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jinyoung says innocently, but the slightest bit of satisfaction on his face gives him away.

 

“Don’t give me that bull. You played that stupid prank on Woojin and now I have to deal with the aftermath which, mind you, includes having lengthy confrontations from half of the people in this school that he so happens to be friends with!” He shouts at him indignantly, arms flying around wildly to manifest his anger.

 

“Oh come on, it was harmless!” Jinyoung admits to it, but Jihoon isn’t having any of this light-hearted joking.

 

He scoffs, crossing his arms, “I’d hardly call that harmless. You do remember his boggart in third year was a fly, right?”

 

Jinyoung lets out a cackle, “Yeah, I also remember you laughing yourself to death when it happened. No wonder he hates you.”

 

Jihoon furrows his brows, taking a step back. “Oh please, that’s not why he hates me.”

 

“Okay, then what do _you_ think is the reason behind him calling this suddenly rivalry on, specifically in third year after that DADA class?” Jinyoung questions him haughtily; Jihoon hates that look on anyone besides himself.

 

His words get caught in his throat for a short, weak moment before he jumps back onto his feet with a rebuttal, “Because he can’t beat me!” And though he’s not actually sure himself the reason why, he’s sure it wouldn’t have anything to do with something as small as laughing at a funny moment.

 

They had been just a few weeks into their third year, stood in a cluster in the middle of the DADA room. Professor Appleby had introduced the concept of a boggart to them; a a shape-shifting non-being that took on the form of their worst fear. As a young kid, it didn’t seem there was much for them to be afraid of other than the forbidden forest and predatory animals in it, but even then, most of them had never encountered one before. And while Jihoon was exposed to a number of terrifying things as a child, most of the people in his year hadn’t, still too sheltered from the sides of horror the world had yet to show them. Woojin was one of those people, and one that most thought was the very epitome of bravery. So it was a delight to watch as Park Woojin, the bearer of courage and heroism, jumped and yelled in fear of the fly that had flown out of the wardrobe. Naturally, everyone in the class had started laughing. Jihoon, who had been considerably down at the beginning of third year was glad that something could finally induce a laugh out of him—it had been so long since he smiled, since he felt any kind of mirth.

 

Maybe he intended to thank Woojin for the laugh, or at least get as close as he can to showing gratitude. But before he could, Woojin jumped at the first opportunity to snap at him for laughing as hard as he did. Jihoon was surprised at the outburst; he had only laughed in a good-natured way, but Woojin had taken it as a means of bullying and turned on him quicker than he could introduce himself. He reverted back to a scowl, if Woojin wasn’t going to be civil than neither was he. He would never admit the disappointment in the inevitable Slytherin hate the other had adopted, would never say that he wanted to be friends, because that gesture had only served as a reminder that they couldn’t be, and they wouldn’t. Because they were from opposing houses, and Jihoon could never convince him to be his friend. And that’s why he can’t understand when people call Woojin friendly, sympathetic, _understanding_ —that would only spark a greater animosity in him because he _doesn’t_ understand. Woojin rose to fame as Gryffindor’s prized captain and seeker, he had everything. Jihoon was having everything taken away from him.

 

Jinyoung hums in disproval, “He schools you in arithman—”

 

Jihoon cuts him off before he can continue, “We do _not_ talk about arithmancy.” It’s no secret that Jihoon’s weakness, if any, was the fact that he had only gotten an E in sixth year arithmancy while Woojin sat there with a gloating O. Now _that_ would make more sense than the whole boggart fiasco, Woojin despising him because of his constant taunting whenever he’d score higher in a class than he did. Jihoon wouldn’t blame him for that, he felt the same way when Woojin shoved his aptitude for numbers in his face.

 

Jinyoung raises his hands defensively. “Just saying. And maybe if you cleared up the misunderstanding back then your rivalry wouldn’t be this bad.”

 

“I wasn’t going to apologize to someone who only saw what he wanted to see.” Jihoon returns stubbornly, “And what’s the use in thinking about it? What’s done is done, there’s no point in living in the past.”

 

“Yeah those really are words you’ve been living by, huh?” Jinyoung looks immediately regretful after the sentence slips past his lips. His head falls down, foot kicking at the ground. “Sorry.”

 

Jihoon swallows down the lump in his throat, blinking furiously for a few moments. His body turns to one side, and then the other, disoriented for a short moment before deciding to leave. “Yeah, well, I guess see you later. Hopefully you’d have actually repented by then.”

 

 

 

 

 

Woojin looks thoroughly unrelaxed when Jihoon walks into their common room after class, still camping out on the couch due to the events of the other day. It _would_ be funny if Jihoon wasn’t constantly being chastised by practically every one of Woojin’s friends because of it. The younger glances up from his book, face immediately turning sour when he sees him. “Oh, are you disappointed that I’m here before you? Did I get in the way of another prank?”

 

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I didn't pull the stupid prank?" Jihoon bristles, not understanding why this was such a big deal to him anyways. It wasn't like he'd done something _that_ cynical, like mess with his school work or frame him for anything expulsion-worthy, hell it wasn't even _his_ doing, Woojin had no right to be yelling at him.

 

"You honestly expect me to believe you? You’d do anything to see me pathetically freak out like that again. You're the one who laughed at me in third year because of my boggart!"

 

Jihoon scoffs in disbelief, _that's_ seriously what this is about? "Wait, is that why you've been mad at me all these years? _Everyone_ in the class laughed at you! We were kids, it was funny!"

 

"Yeah and you laughed until you couldn't breathe and made it even more big of a deal that it should have been." Woojin tries to attest, though it only riles him up further.

 

“There’s a whole spectrum of things I could have done that would have at least made your hatred feasible but God forbid I _laugh_ at you one time.” He laughs grimly, sharp and vicious. "Maybe if you had a fucking sense of humor you wouldn't be holding a stupid four year grudge against me." Jihoon finishes with a sneer, hands balled into fists at his sides. A tension fills the room, just like always when they collided. Things hadn’t gotten better, always turned for the worse, especially now that they’re trapped in this shared dorm, with each other being the person they saw the most every day. Jihoon hates the variety of emotions Woojin brings out of him, hates that he can take him from annoyed to frustrated to downright furious, hates that he deviates even the slightest bit from his nonchalant demeanor with just a few words from the younger. He doesn’t like to be out of control, but Woojin is all kinds of infuriating and at this point he can’t help himself.

 

Woojin lets out a mirthless laugh; it scrapes at his insides, kicks him down and picks at his poise. "Maybe if you weren't such an insensitive little prick people would hate you less. But what am I expecting from a Slytherin? You people practically breathe cruelty."

 

And just like that his composure snaps like a rubber band that Woojin’s been toying with for years, nostrils flailing and heat rising to his face. "There you go again with your anti-Slytherin agenda!" He throws his hands up exasperatedly, "You know, I've heard stories about you from other houses. They all say you're this fun, friendly, dependable hero but guess fucking _what_? You can't pull your head out of your ass for two seconds to stop looking at things through your narrow line of vision. 'Cause if you were _actually_ this righteous, do-gooder Gryff you wouldn't be this fucking insufferable!

 

"You think all of us isolate ourselves from the other houses on purpose? No, _you_ all do that to us, so much that we're practically conditioned to think we only have each other. You Gryffindors preach inter-house peace, but won't even hesitate to start a war against Slytherins. You're all up to your neck deep in your stupid pride that you refuse to stop associating evil with a stupid _color_! Do you even really _know_ any of us?"

 

Woojin's mouth is clamped shut, a mix of confusion and lingering anger in his eyes that's lessened from before. His stare is wordless though, so Jihoon continues, because the cue stick has already hit the ball and there’s no stopping him now.

  
"Do you know how much Daehwi and Jinyoung value our house like it’s their own family? How dedicated they are to the people and the things they love? Do you know that Doyeon isn't on speaking terms with her family right now because she's dating a girl, not to mention a muggleborn? And how she fights every day for a chance to love the person she wants to love? Do you know that I—" His breath hitches, swallowing down the rest of the sentence before his high-strung, careless state can get him into deeper waters, something welling in his eyes. He shuts his eyes tightly, sucking in a breath as he tries to sort out the haphazard thoughts running through his brain. "You know what? Third year me would have loved to pick a fight with you, watch you dig your own grave with your own ignorance. But now?" Jihoon exhales, voice measured, but he feels himself shaking, "You're not even worth it."

 

 

If there’s a rebuttal Jihoon doesn’t hear the beginning of it, the sound of the common room door slamming shut behind him having never been more satisfying.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jihoon is greeted by the confused faces of two friends when he shows up at their door, empty-handed and exhaustion seeping from his voice, "Got room for an old roommate?"

 

Daehwi gives up his bed for him, insisting he'd rather have Jihoon sleep in it than on the floor. Before Jihoon can protest, Daehwi tells him he'll be perfectly fine in Jinyoung's bed. He climbs into the younger's bed, one that had actually been his own the previous year, and feels a lot more comfortable, the least out of place since he'd gotten here.

 

"I can't believe he said that." Daehwi frowns, pulling his legs up into himself and laying his head onto his knees. Jihoon had clued them in on his little fight with Woojin, after confirming that Seongwoo and Donghan had already fallen asleep on the other side of the room. He could only wish to obtain the amount of hours of sleep those two were able to get.

 

"I can." Jinyoung declares easily, wrapping his blanket around Daehwi’s shoulders. "Other houses have always been like that to us, it's nothing new."

 

"Yeah but it's not fair if they've never actually had proper encounters with us." Daehwi argues angrily. “How do you refuse to speak a single word to an entire group of people and still insist on labelling them as you see fit?”

 

"They don't think they need to." Jihoon explains, slipping under the covers and lying on his side. "This belief has been engraved in their heads and passed down for years, practically genetic at this point, honestly. Still doesn't make it okay, though."

 

“So, what are you gonna do?" Jinyoung questions, half-said and half-sighing.

 

There's a beat as he considers this, "Nothing, for now." Jihoon concludes, after some thought. "This is all on him." And it's true. He didn't need to be the one to do the fixing because he's not the one who broke things. Until the steam blows off, Jihoon doesn’t even want to see him. As brainwashed as the younger is, he isn’t heartless. So if Jihoon’s absence can tack on the guilt, then so be it, maybe he’ll even cool down enough enjoy it.

 

They eventually let that conversation die off, the two of them realizing how much Jihoon didn't want to talk about it, especially when him being here in the first place was the result of him avoiding the problem instead of facing it. They talk about other things, like the future, other people, themselves, until theirs eyes get droopy and Jinyoung follows Daehwi shortly into a slumber, leaving Jihoon alone with his head.

 

When he lies awake in bed that night, he realizes that he always feels like he’s falling, but he can never for the life of him fall asleep. He’d hoped that being back in the Slytherin dungeons would help him get back all of the lost hours, wished the familiar sounds of the unobtrusive ocean swishing around them would lull him to sleep. Instead, he stays tossing and turning, falling victim to the relentless abyss in his mind. At 3 A.M. he'd wish for dawn in hopes that he could escape his catastrophic thoughts, but with a new day brought more empty hours and even longer suffocating nights.

 

His contempt mind refuses even the slightest trace of optimism, preferring misery over the effort to actually try to see the good in people, in life. Hypothetically speaking, he could put his faith in humanity, but in the end there wouldn’t be a point, because even if you’re nice to everyone you come across, that will never change the fact that there are awful people out there who will only laugh at optimism, give you a reason to resent the world and see it for the cruel, distasteful joke it is. And when all is said and done, every fragment of hope you ever had will collapse in on itself, and you’ll regret that you ever wasted your time trying. So he settles for this silent suffocation, lets it engulf him completely.

 

 

As a kid he'd learnt how to swim, but no one told him he didn't need water to drown.

 

 

 

 

 

enmity — ii.

 

  

Woojin feels lost. And not in the way a kid feels when they separate from their mother in the grocery store. Everything around him is familiar, he knows exactly where he is. He’d walked these castles for seven years of his life, trusts that he knows every nook and cranny of the place—but even then, his feet don’t know where to take him, has no idea where he’s supposed to go from here.

 

He has pride, too much of it, in fact. The second Jihoon walked out the door two weeks ago he hadn’t even entertained the idea of going after him, to fix what he said because it was true.

 

Wasn’t it?

 

Jihoon isn’t cordial, far from it, really. Woojin didn't need to have this underlying grudge to know that, it’s just fact that Jihoon had never shown to be a friendly person before. How was he to know anything about Daehwi or Jinyoung or Doyeon? How was he supposed to know anything about Jihoon as a person when he worked so damn tirelessly to conceal himself?

 

And sure, maybe he _had_ been predisposed to hate Slytherins because of the lineage and the stories, and especially the already established rivalry between their two houses. But if they all they ever do is perpetuate these negatives then isn’t it because they _want_ to preserve this reputation for their house? As a thing for others to fear, to step away from? If they wanted change, shouldn’t it also be their job to exhibit reasons why they deserved it? Maybe it’s just fact that people don’t change, that you could cover up and play the game, but when you return home and tear everything away there is what there always was, cemented like that interminably.

 

He brushes it off, leaves it to sit in a sector of his mind that he has no intention of unlocking, not yet anyways. There were more important things to deal with, like quidditch practice, which he was late for.

 

“Oi, what kind of captain is late to practice?”

 

Woojin rolls his eyes, a little embarrassed. “Alright, you don’t have to hassle me Yena, just get into the air and let’s start.”

 

Quidditch thankfully manages to take the edge off the cacophony of thoughts that had been invading his mind for the last week. They get in some good laughs when Hyunmin almost crashes into Yena trying to score a goal, Hyunmin screaming boisterously as he tries to keep himself steady on his broom after just nearly evading the girl. Other than that incident, Woojin feels he’s been whipping them up into pretty good shape for their next tournament. He pats his team on the shoulder as they exit the fields, flicking both Yena and Hyunmin in the foreheads when they pass him.

 

Hyunmin wraps am arm around his shoulder when he turns around to follow them off. “So, Jihoon’s still not back in the dorms?”

 

“Nah, I’ve been getting some peaceful time to myself and it’s been great.” He says, though something doesn’t ring quite true about it, and it doesn’t look to be convincing Hyunmin either.

 

“Dude, I know the guilt is secretly eating you up.” Hyunmin pries, arm falling to his side. “I can see these things man, I can read people.”

 

Woojin snorts, elbowing him in the ribs. “Then why aren’t you taking Divination?”

 

“Uh, have you been asleep in that class? Because _same_. It’s so boring!”

 

“Or maybe you’re just not sufficient enough to make prophecies.” Woojin teases, laughing harder at the look of betrayal on the other’s face.

 

“That’s so rude, Park Woojin! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

 

“I don’t recall any profanities in that sentence.” He merely shrugs, amused at Hyunmin’s comically offended expression.

 

“Your people sensibility is amazing, truly unreachable.” He applauds sarcastically, “Anyways, before you so cleverly steered us off on a tangent,” Woojin exhales sluggishly at Hyunmin’s persistence. “When are you gonna talk to the snake?”

 

“I heard he’s driving Jinyoung and Daehwi a little crazy with how often he trails after them.” They hear Yena’s voice jump in from in front of them, the girl walking backwards like she’d been part of the conversation the whole time.

 

Woojin winces. _Great_ , more people to bring the topic back into sight. “Were you eavesdropping?”

 

Yena snickers, “Uh, of course I was.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyways, I kinda pity him. He got kicked out of his own dorm.”

 

“I didn’t kick him out, Yena.” Woojin says firmly, “He made the decision himself.”

 

“Yeah but you drove him to that decision.” She says pointedly, fingers twirling the end of her long ponytail. Woojin finds himself mildly impressed with how she’s been able to navigate her way down the corridors while walking backwards _and_ without tripping. Then again, he guesses her alertness and impeccable balance is what makes her an amazing keeper.

 

“Stop siding with the enemy.” He accuses her, feeling slightly ashamed at his own childishness.

 

She raises her hands in a shrug. “Not my enemy.”

 

“They’re all of our enemies.”

 

“They’re all _your_ enemies.” She corrects him, then puts a hand to her heart proudly, nose sticking up. “I, on the other hand, am _very_ open-minded. Do you know how cool Sakura is?”

 

Woojin scrunches his nose, waving a dismissive hand. “Can we discard this topic already? Whether Jihoon decides to come back or not isn’t my problem. Not like I’m stopping him.”

 

“Yeesh, someone’s extra snappy today.” Yena provokes, darting down the hall when Woojin narrows his eyes at her. Before careening around the corner, she shouts back at him, “Be a good person, Wooj!”

 

Hyunmin puts a hand on his shoulder, “You know I’m normally on your side, but while you’re not completely wrong, you’re not completely right either.” He gives him a shrug, walking ahead of him, “Still don’t like ‘em but I’m just saying, sometimes it’s easier when you take the high road, and that’s coming from me.” The boy leaves shortly after as well, catching up with the rest of the group and leaving Woojin alone in the corridors.

 

Enlightenment comes to you when you least expect it, and all at once, barreling towards you sequentially at a hundred-sixty kilometers per hour. For Woojin, the next voice of reason comes in the form of a tiny black-haired sixth year with an undecipherable look on his face, bounding towards him from the other side of the hallway. "I need to talk to you."

 

Woojin whips his head around, looking for any other possible _plausible_ subject of Lee Daehwi's interest, because surely it couldn't be _him_. He lifts a brow, pointing a finger at his chest. "Me?"

 

“Yes, you." Daehwi grabs him lightly by the arm and pulls him to the side of the corridors, leaning against the castle walls. "I think you need to talk to Jihoon."

 

Woojin makes a face—he couldn’t go anywhere without someone bringing up the whole Jihoon situation to him, couldn’t even make it three steps from one conversation to the next without hearing about it. Of course, to some degree he’d expected a Slytherin to confront him about it at some point in the near future, he just didn’t think it would have been Daehwi, nor did he expect it to be this calm, and without any impending violence. "Why?"

 

"Come on, you and I both know _why._ " Daehwi crosses his arms, a look that’s equal parts annoyed and disappointed. "He's been sulking in our dorm room for weeks and even though he's my best friend it's kind of starting to feel like a babysitting job. Plus, he's taking away all my free time with Jinyoung." The younger pouts, in a whiny voice that Woojin doesn't expect out of him. “Jihoon spends his free time in the Astronomy tower. When he's not with us he's usually there, just before curfew. If you want to find him you can look there."

 

He shifts uncomfortably, narrowing his eyes at the younger, a nonplussed stare boring into him. "Why are you telling me this?"

 

"Because despite your unreasonable hatred for Slytherins,” He hears a tinge of indignation in his voice, “I know you're a good guy. And maybe you don't think it, but Jihoon is too, and he at least deserves to sleep in his own room. He doesn’t usually talk about his problems but I can tell he’s having a hard time, and I don’t want him having a harder time than he has to.” The surprise may be evident on his face, given how Daehwi goes to explain himself automatically, “We have strong friendships too, you know. I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

 

Daehwi takes off without another word, leaving Woojin once again, clambered in his thoughts. It’s just been a day full of criticism and people telling him to reflect on his decisions and Woojin is tiring of having to think until his head hurts.

 

He doesn’t mean to end up in the Astronomy tower but he does, his feet taking him up the stairs as he mulls over his encounter with Daehwi. He’d called him a good person, a _Slytherin_ , told him he was a good person and seemingly put his pride on the shelf to confront him because he didn’t want to see his friend get hurt. It’s hard to wrap his mind around the look of genuine concern of the younger boy’s face, the vulnerability. He really thought he had pushed anything to do with Jihoon away until Jihoon himself had come back to take what was his, but he’s stuck on the thought of him anyways, still pondering on his choices, his words, his beliefs. It’s kind of ridiculous, how much confusion Daehwi had managed to instill in him with one encounter.

 

And though Daehwi had told him he would be, Woojin is still surprised to find Jihoon at the other end of the tower, facing the window, lambent moonlight shining in on his pondering form. He’s even more surprised to find, just by the slump in his posture, how down he seems to be. Woojin had seen him angry, confused, disgusted, and even amused before, but he’d never once seen him look so… sad. And Park Jihoon wallowing in sadness is something that Woojin never thought he’d witness in this life.

 

He panics slightly; even if he was usually good at going with the flow, this was different. He hadn’t even had a plan, a script of what he could say or _should_ say to him. But it’s too late, because Jihoon notices him, eyes squinting in the dark to identify him. Woojin steps closer, hesitantly, head held up in spite of his diminishing pride, feet dragging across the stone and hands balled into fists at his sides. They hold each other’s gaze for seconds too long and Woojin kind of wants to shove his head into a bucket of ice because that would be less painful than the piercing silence between them right now. Then, Jihoon’s face morphs from confusion into displeasure, as he so often did whenever he saw him. “What are you doing here?” He asks rather pointedly, the question enveloping him in his vexation.

 

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” Woojin lies through his teeth rather unintelligibly. Not a good move apparently, because Jihoon only grows more irritated by the second.

 

“Oh, what, Slytherins can’t enjoy a peaceful night in the Astronomy tower now? I must be up here plotting something evil, hey?” He spits out, acid in his words.

 

Woojin’s nostrils flare slightly at his defensiveness, “I didn’t even say anything.”

 

“I know what you think of me.” Jihoon hisses, “You made it so clear that I can’t even sleep where I actually live anymore.”

 

“I didn’t force you out of the dorms!” Woojin jumps to defend himself, temporarily forgetting why he’d even come here in the first place. Certainly, defusing the situation wouldn’t be possible now. He steps closer, into the moonlit space, and catches the anger in Jihoon’s eyes. “You walked out yourself.”

 

Jihoon pushes himself off of the wall, getting up and standing his ground across Woojin. “Yeah well it’s not exactly fun having to live in an oppressed space!”

 

“It wouldn’t be _oppressed_ if you would just be a nice person!” Woojin counters, volume increasing and bouncing off of the walls.

 

Jihoon looks just about ready to explode, “You don’t know enough about me to determine that!”

 

And then the light comes.

 

It comes in a rush, a large whoosh of wind that sweeps over them, suddenly and overwhelmingly. There’s a loud rumbling in his ears, but he can’t make sense of it as his thoughts are clustering, spinning with the gust of air swirling around them. There’s a trail of light that follows the wind, a white light that nearly blinds him for moments at a time. It turns into bluish glare as it sweeps circles around his body, a tugging at his chest pulling him forward as he tries to resist it. Then it shifts into a reddish glow, dancing in arbitrary lines between them, lifting his feet off of the ground. And then the room goes completely white, for one, two, three beats. The tugging stops, nudging him back onto his feet and he has to balance himself as the light rushes out of the window with the wind, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of loss and Jihoon with an equally bewildered expression on his face.

 

When the wind is gone, Woojin feels his body go slightly limp, leaning onto the wall next to him to steady himself. He feels his eyelids dropping slightly, head spinning so much he feels nauseous. “W-what..” He croaks out barely, attempting to fill his lungs back with oxygen. “What the bloody hell was _that_?”

 

Jihoon doesn’t speak, just looks at him with a disconcerted look in his eyes, an endless stretch of silence falling once more between them until Woojin decides to end it himself, taking backwards steps until he’s out of the tower room.

  

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Woojin wakes up to find that Jihoon still hadn’t come back to the dorms, given the still pristine state of his bed. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly last night, not with his mind swirling with the images of the events in the Astronomy tower. It all happened in a mere half hour; Daehwi coming to talk to him, arguing with Jihoon in the tower room, the undefinable wind that had enveloped them slowly, and then rushing out all at once. How could he even begin to explain it? There weren't any standout events that had led to the odd occurrence, not even a storm to make sense of anything. It was there one moment and gone the next, like its sole mission was to shown up for a second and then leave just so it could enjoy watching him overthink himself into oblivion.

 

It isn’t until he’s in the shower that he notes something on outer side of his forearm, something that he had no recalling of ever getting. He lifts his right arm to get a closer look, eyes tracing over the dark black tattoo-like mark just above his wrist, resembling something of a compass, Woojin notes. He breath catches in his throat—things were getting weirder by the minute and Woojin is almost positive it has something to do with the flying light from the previous night.

 

He makes sure to keep his sleeves down when he attends his classes for the day, so as to avoid any scrutinizing from his friends. There’s no indication that Jihoon is just as perturbed by last night’s events as he is, but then again, Jihoon never made himself easy to read. He does, however, feel the unease almost triple inside of him when he looks at the Slytherin. Woojin can’t see him properly from his spot in the Great Hall, so he waits until Jihoon gets up to leave before going to confront him.

 

Jihoon is, unsurprisingly, less than a little enthusiastic when Woojin grabs him by the arm and pulls him towards a more secluded area of the corridors. Without a word, Woojin reaches over to shove the sleeve of Jihoon’s robe up, eyes landing immediately on the identical compass mark on the side of Jihoon’s left forearm. “What the hell are you doing—”

 

He wastes no time pulling away the sleeve of his own shirt, exposing his matching mark to the older. Jihoon sucks in a breath, eyes widening. “I knew something was up..”

 

“What do these mean, Jihoon.” It’s more a statement than a question, his voice lowering.

 

“Fuck if I know.” Jihoon clips, exhaling harshly as he turns serious. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

 

“Clearly this all has something to do with whatever the hell happened in the Astronomy tower last night.” Woojin continues, raking a hand through his hair. “We need to find out what these mean, and the sooner the better because it’s starting to creep me out.”

 

Jihoon scoffs lightly in spite of the entire situation. “You afraid, Gryff?”

 

Woojin gives him an exasperated look. “Shut up. We need to go to the library.”

 

The older raises an eyebrow, shifting his weight onto his back leg. “We?”

 

Woojin blinks owlishly, “What’d you think would happen? I research about this thing on my own?”

 

Jihoon nods, “Yes, precisely that you would read up about it until your knowledge is sufficient enough to bring me into it.”

 

Woojin’s lip curls into a snarl, “Like it or not this concerns the both of us so you’re gonna clear up your schedule and you’re gonna follow me to the library. Now.”

 

Jihoon sets his mouth in a hard line, jaw tightening. “ _Fine_.”

 

An hour later, after Woojin had (as inconspicuously and detached as he could, in the pretty-improbable-but-slightly-possible case that they would be questioned) asked the librarian to direct him to books that contained any information about body markings, they find themselves seated on opposite sides of a library table (specifically, Woojin is seated diagonally from Jihoon so as to not look associated with each other) with stacks of books in between them, and none of which have been very helpful for the time they’ve spent here. He’s hit nothing but dead ends in the last few books he’s gone through. Even after scanning through numerous pages he hasn’t even an inkling of what he’s really looking for, and he’s not sure if he wants to _ask_ anyone about it; it was already unsettling enough that he shared the mark with Jihoon, of all people, he doesn’t want to get his blabber-mouth friends involved in it. Until they could figure out what they meant, what _all_ of this meant, he thinks it’s best that they keep it between themselves.

 

Reading is unusually draining today. Woojin finds himself having to blink himself out of the stupor he falls into every two or so pages. He expects Jihoon to be the same, but when he glances at the older, he’s still focused intently on the words in front of him. Despite how he comes off as indifferent to almost anything, Jihoon flips through various books in their pile with so much immersion, a familiar glint of fascination in his eyes that Woojin finds himself more intrigued by than any of the books at his disposal. And even though it had been the very act of Jihoon besting him in various classes that grew their hostility towards each other, his potency to truly understand the essence of magic had only really made itself clear to him now. Maybe that’s how Jihoon had constantly seized his curiosity over the years, how he had always found his mind floating back to him at random points of the day. He was a spark of intellect that challenged him at almost every point of his school career, and it was as refreshing as it was infuriating.

 

Woojin thanks his quick reflexes that allow him to dodge a questioning look from the older for staring longer than he should have been. There’s a still a trace of confusion, but he doesn’t voice it. “Any luck on your side?”

 

“Nope.” Woojin pops the _p_ , letting the book fall flat onto the table. “You?”

 

Jihoon shakes his head, “Not exactly easy to find something when you don’t know what you’re looking for in the first place. There’s nothing in these books that point us in the right direction.”

 

“Nothing was _in_ these books until people put them there.” He contributes rather monotonously, earning a scoff from the older.

 

“How insightful.” Jihoon remarks sarcastically. “So you’re saying we’re the first ones to experience this?”

 

Woojin shrugs, “It’s possible.”

 

“But highly unlikely.” Jihoon surmises, closing his current book and pulling down another one from the top of the pile.

 

“Then why do you suppose we don’t know a single thing about this? About that wind and that light and these marks?” Woojin discusses further, book in front of him already closed shut. “Even if it isn’t anywhere in the curriculum, wouldn’t we have at least heard _something_ about it after all these years? Nothing is ever truly new these days, just hidden.”

 

“You know, this process would go by a whole lot quicker if you actually helped instead of lecture me on the philosophy of idealism.” Jihoon makes no attempt to entertain his curiosity, and Woojin holds back an exhaustive groan. He had figured that Jihoon was a stick In the mud, but he didn’t think it was to this extent.

 

It’s only a few minutes more after Jihoon flips through a couple more pages that he gasps uncharacteristically, looking up sharply from the book. “I think I found it.” Woojin scrambles over to his side of the table, looking over his shoulder as Jihoon quietly reads out the paragraph just beside a picture with a tattoo in the same area on the arm as their own marks.

 

 

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Woojin breathes out in disbelief, a variety of emotions arising in him. “They’re _soul bond marks_?”

 

 

 

 

 

☾ 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of the wonderful comments so far, i'm really glad you're all enjoying this!

 

 

hiraeth (noun).  
_cymraeg (welsh)_  
**\ hiraɪ̯θ\**  
a **homesickness** for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning for the **lost** places of your past. 

 

 

* * *

    

 

 

hiraeth — i.

 

_familiarity is poison_

 

 

 

 

“This is bullshit! Complete bullshit! Don’t you agree?”

 

“Of course I agree!” Jihoon sneers in a whisper, pulling Woojin back down into a seat. “Our souls are bonded together, Woojin. _Us_.” Woojin has been a thorn in his proverbial side for years on end, and this information was practically the hammer that nailed him into perpetuity. It’s as if the universe decided that Jihoon hadn’t suffered quite yet enough, and so his final year could only be fair if he, one, was forced to share a dorm with a person who despised him and he the same, and two, have his entire fucking _soul_ bonded with said subject of hatred. And while he was doing a remarkable job avoiding the first one, this isn’t something he can just turn his back on and pretend it doesn’t exist. This is real, and it _sucks_.

 

“Well how the fuck do we _unbond_ them?!” Woojin asks, exasperated. They’d already spent longer than they had planned to in the library, a double breakdown wasn’t anything Jihoon needed today. Woojin stops vigorously messing up his hair, looking up abruptly. “Wait, backtrack. Why do we have them in the first place?”

 

Jihoon sighs, point down at the page in front of him. “It says here that they don’t usually show up for people until they’re of age, and they’re meant to bond two people who are considered essential in each other’s lives, be it to teach each other something valuable or to be remarkably powerful pillars for each other.”

 

Woojin scoffs instinctively at that, “And what do they suppose I can learn from you?”

 

“Maybe a thing or two about decency.” Jihoon retorts, squaring his jaw. “You know, coming from a Slytherin that’s pretty sad, Red.”

 

“I’m going to be a decent person and ignore that comment.” Woojin sends him a petulant glance, “But why do you think we were given these marks? I mean, there had to be a deciding moment.”

 

“I assume that’s what the wind was.” Jihoon surmises, eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Maybe it’s because we were arguing last night.”

 

“Yeah but we always argue.”

 

“Yeah, but you just turned 17.” Jihoon points out, squirming uncomfortably at the look Woojin gives him. “Your friends aren’t exactly lowkey about celebrating your existence.”

 

“Not like I asked anyone to do that.” Woojin mutters under his breath and Jihoon only catches it just barely. Before Woojin can make any use of pulling the book towards him they’re notified that it’s already eight, which means their research has to be put on hold for the day.

 

“Guess we’ll have to pick this up again some other time.” Jihoon mumbles, packing up his stuff. When they exit the library, Jihoon makes no move to bid him a goodbye or follow him back to their dorm. He goes on his way quietly and Woojin doesn’t stop him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go off on my own to get something.” Jihoon tells his two friends as they’re walking through Hogsmeade village. He’s intruding, he knows this much. It’s been weeks and all he’s done is tag along behind Jinyoung and Daehwi in everything they did, and today would be just the same. Only, he sees the subtle glances they cast at each other when they think he isn’t looking. They need their alone time and so he does the smart thing and pretends like he’s the one who needs to leave before they can kick him out themselves.

 

“Are you sure?” Daehwi asks uncertainly, “We could wait for you.”

 

Jihoon shakes his head, declining. “No, go enjoy you’re date, I’ll be fine. I’ll go look for Seongwoo after or something.”

 

“Alright, see you later!” Jinyoung and Daehwi waves him off before they head towards Madam Puttifoot’s, leaving him alone. It’s not as bad as they make it seem though, because it’s not like he’d sent them off without prior plans. His father had owled him last night to set up a meeting at Hogsmeade during their weekend trip, and though Jihoon hadn’t been too enthusiastic to see him, he’d complied in the case that he would have still looked for him otherwise, and he had no desire to explain to any Slytherin onlooker what his dad had wanted to see him for.

 

He meets him a little further away from the village, amidst the trees in an open area of space. It’s not too secluded, but all passerbys were simply too busy with their own matters that they didn’t bother to spare glances at them. The old man’s hair has greyed considerably, from the years’ worth of stress put on him. “Jihoon.” He acknowledges him, voice still rather void of emotion but filled with lethargy. “I hope to hear that your studies have been going well?”

 

“Of course.” He answers simply, formally. They weren’t much for conversation, not anymore, anyways. They had gotten distant after his third year, and it had never gotten better. “What did you call me out here for?”

 

If it’s possible, his father’s eyes go even colder, but not without a hint of worry that Jihoon manages to catch. The old man lowers his voice, eyes darting out towards the trees. “I would have preferred to explain this to you in a quieter, more secluded space, but unfortunately we do not have the liberty to be loitering about for very long without our eyes wide open and without any protection so this will have to be quick.”

 

Jihoon’s eyebrows drew together at the haste in his tone, how jumpy he looks despite trying to hide it. “Protection? From what?”

 

“I guess the news hasn’t travelled far yet.” His father hesitates for a moment, “There was an escape from Azkaban a few hours ago.”

 

Jihoon feels the air being punched from his lungs, almost taking away the strength in his legs. His eyes widen, fear overcoming his entire body. “W-what?”

 

Emotion finally finds its way onto his old man’s face, but never in the way Jihoon wanted to see him feel something again. There’s dread, then pain, and then there’s heartbreak. He watches all of these pass by until it’s taken over by shock and suddenly he’s being pushed out of the way, back onto the path and out of the open space as he hears his father shout _Protego_.

 

He’s quick enough that he blocks the attack that had shot towards them. Jihoon catches a brief glance of a black figure passing quickly through the forest. “ _Expulso_!” His father shoots out at the trees, and Jihoon watches a big explosion in the middle of the area. “Get out of here go into the village and stay with a group of people. Don’t get anywhere near those trees.”

 

His father urges him back towards the village, but Jihoon stands his ground. “What about you?”

 

The old man stops to give him a look, perhaps of reassurance. “I’ll be fine, remember?” Jihoon nods in understanding, but he can’t let go of his worry. “Now _go_.”

 

He lets his feet take him away and back towards his classmates, head so muddled that it takes him a while to register eyes peering up at him, shocked and concerned. Jihoon slows down, messing up his hair in frustration. He doesn’t know how much Woojin had witnessed, but he’s sure as hell tired of the goddamn Gryffindor being a recurring thing of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What was that all about back in Hogsmeade?” Woojin questions after the silent walk back to the castle, making Jihoon slow in his steps as he walks into their common room for the first time in a while. Jihoon had watched him the whole way back to make sure he hadn’t spoken to anyone else after what he had witnessed, and Woojin had insisted that they talk in their dorm room as soon as they had gotten back to Hogwarts. There’s only so much Jihoon can do to keep an eye on him to prevent him from spilling, but he can’t decide if it’s best to confront him right now or keep feigning ignorance.

 

“Nothing.” He brushes it off, making his way towards the couches. He settles for avoidance for now, waiting to see how this would play out.

 

“Didn’t seem like nothing to me.” The younger presses on, and Jihoon hates that he has to go through this. If Woojin hadn’t been snooping around then Jihoon wouldn't have to be explaining himself.

 

“Well it was so drop it.” He concludes, making it clear that this is the end of that conversation. Woojin presses his lips into a thin line, but doesn’t question any further. “You said you needed to tell me something, so go.”

 

Woojin makes a ‘o’ with his mouth. “Right.” He moves to sit on the couch across from him, leaning over and propping himself on his knees. “I felt something weird earlier, in Hogsmeade.”                    

 

Jihoon raises a brow, “Are you seriously going back to this again? I just told you—”

 

“No, not about you,” Woojin waves his arms, cutting him off. “Well, not about _that_ , but yeah, about you. I felt this weird tugging sensation, like it didn’t really force me anywhere but I went to where it was trying to take me because I felt like I needed to, and that’s when I saw you.”

 

“So, you’re saying the tugging feeling lead you to me?” He tries to make sense of the story, however weird it may be.

 

“I think so, yeah.” Woojin nods, looking pensive in thought. “I also think that it has to do with our connection.”

 

Jihoon makes a face, leaning back into the couch and pulling his legs up to cross them. “Ugh, do _not_ call it a ‘connection’.”

 

Woojin narrows his eyes at him, “Well what do you want me to call it? You want me to say we’re soulmates now, is that it?”

 

“Would you stop talking for like _one_ second.” Jihoon huffs, frustrated. He could sleep on the idea of this connection for years and it would never get any less bizarre. “We’re gonna need to keep reading up on this stuff because if we venture into some mind-reading bullshit then I’m offing myself right then.”

 

“It’s gonna be weird if we’re constantly seen in the library together.” Woojin points out, and Jihoon hates to say he’s right but he is. “Let’s just make use of this shared space and take out books to research in here.” Jihoon bites down on his cheek. He hadn’t planned to move back into the dorm just yet, but all things considered it would be a lot more beneficial for them to be in the same place. At least that way he could make sure that Woojin wasn’t sneaking his friends into the dorm to gossip about the events that unfolded in front of him today. His head snaps back up when Woojin speaks up again, “There’s also been other stuff going around too, you know. Apparently someone named Solanine broke out of Azkaban today. People think she might be the person who’s been threatening the student at Hogwarts.”

 

Jihoon freezes with his words, feeling like he’s going to throw up all over again with the reminder because _it’s real_ , s _he’s escaped_. And Jihoon has felt fear before, but this—this is blinding panic, a kind of terror that could come with only a single utterance of the name. _So much for avoiding it_.

 

“I can’t really put my finger on who her target could be though, no one at this school seems to jump out to me as someone who’s been living the past few years in fear of her.” Woojin says in a way that implies the exceedingly offensive notion that Jihoon would _actually_ buy into his whole playing dumb charade. “I mean, surely with all of the recent talk about this whole thing going around, someone would stand out as suspicious.”

 

He lets go of neutrality, slowly, face contorting into a mix of morbid amusement and genuine strain. “What do you know about the runaway?” He asks with a gritty voice, lip curling into a sneer.

 

Woojin shifts uncomfortably as he watches Jihoon, looking unsure of how to interpret the tone of his voice, the look on his face. “Not much, really.” He mumbles, body language suddenly becoming closed off as opposed to how he was seconds ago, faux obliviousness like he hadn’t just been digging and sticking his nose into things that weren’t his business.

 

“Well shoot, give it a guess.” Jihoon pushes, his voice losing its stability word by word. The amusement drips down like paint, until the pain and sorrow makes its way out of hiding.

 

“The Daily Prophet says she’s out for revenge against the family who killed her husband.” Woojin attempts, voice unsure. Jihoon’s breaths are uneven as he listens to him talk. “She was furious that the accomplice of his killer wasn’t punished because it was self-defence and he hadn’t been the one to actually kill him.”  

 

Each word Woojin adds to the conversation is like a punch to his gut, getting stronger each time. “Don’t beat around the bush, Woojin.” Jihoon says, voice barely above a whisper but acid all the same. “You can’t possibly think I’m that stupid, I know what you’re trying to say.”

 

Woojin looks oddly conflicted, hunching forward even further, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Is it you?” He finally asks, the fear not failing to be present in his voice. “Are you the target?”

 

Jihoon grips at the pillow in his lap, uncrossing his legs and letting his feet touch the ground, his back hitting the couch. His mouth twitches, “Congratulations, you figured it out.”

 

Woojin lets something of a defeated sigh past his lips, eyebrows knitted together. “Why don’t you tell anyone? The school could help you.”

 

“The school will only turn this into a bigger story than it needs to be.” Jihoon says pointedly, a weird sense of airiness overcoming him as he continues the story. “Most of the details of that night aren’t even apparent to reporters. We’ve kept a lot of information to ourselves for the last few years.”

 

“Already seems pretty heavy to me..” Woojin admits, fiddling with his single dangling earring. “How much more story could there be?” 

 

Jihoon swallows thickly in an attempt to wash away the feeling of poison on his tongue. His tells himself to stay quiet, forces himself to keep the words from forming on his lips. But he’s angry and tired and this dam he’s hiding behind is going to burst open any second. By now his voice can barely reach above a whisper. “Did they tell you she killed my mother?”

 

The air grows remarkably cold, so silent that for a moment Jihoon isn’t even sure Woojin is breathing. The only sound that fills the room for the long pause that settles between them is the crackling of the fireplace next to them, enshrouding them in a dingy orange glow. Neither of them expects Jihoon to drop the bomb, and it’s potentially the most lethal bomb, because how are you supposed to follow up an interrogation after that?

 

“It was four years ago, the summer before third year.” His voice is shaking when he starts again, unable to sooth the jitters under his skin. “I’d known for a while that my parents were involved in something weird, but it didn’t occur to me for a second that they could be dealing with dangerous people too. And you wanna know why no one has ever heard about it?” He lets out a laugh in spite of himself, “Four years later and people still think I have a mother, still think my family is doing perfectly fine in all of our wealthy, pureblood _grandeur_ , all because my dad didn’t want anyone to know about their _stupid_ plans.”

 

“Jihoon..” The pity that laces his voice feels awful. He wants to stop but he can’t, not after it’s started, not after keeping it hidden for so long.

 

“She..” He pauses when he feels the words cling to his throat, acid and searing. “She tortured my mother, so _horribly_. And when she tried to kill my father, my mother she.. threw herself in front of him as Solanine casted the killing curse. I had to watch her die right in front of me.”

 

“You don't have to—”

 

Jihoon swallows hard, eyes fixated on the ceiling. “I have nightmares about that day every single night.”

 

 “Jihoon, stop..” Woojin whispers, voice shaking. When Jihoon’s eyes make their way back to Woojin he sees the younger’s eyes closed shut, fists clenched.

 

“I don’t know what you think my values are but I know that my number one priority is my family, including the Slytherins. And I’m going to do everything I can to protect them, just like my mother did.” He declares, fighting for composure. It takes Jihoon an entire minute to haul in a deep breath, and following it comes the crack in his voice that knocks down the last standing piece of wood, the dam no longer serving its purpose. His head tips back onto the top of the couch, the exhaustion in his voice is clear as he croaks out, “All because I let go.”

 

“I’m sorry..” Woojin whispers grievously, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Jihoon..” He takes a shuddering breath, no longer able to bring himself to look Woojin in the eyes. Silence overcomes them once again. Jihoon finds himself getting lost in the light of the fireplace, slowly drifting away from unconsciousness until Woojin decides to speak up again. “And after all that I just made it worse by being an asshole to you after our Dark Arts class.”

 

Jihoon forces out a scoff, feeling slightly accomplished when he succeeds in keeping in his tears. “The bad timing didn’t exactly help but it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me. Not like you even knew.”  

 

“Still,” Woojin shrinks back, guilty, knowingly. Knowing that all Jihoon wanted was to make a friend during the worst year of his life and yet all he did was push him away. “You were probably just trying to hold onto a good laugh and I just yelled in your face.”

 

Jihoon stretches out his legs before rising from his seat, using all of what’s left of his composure to hold himself up. “I’m over it already, maybe it’s time you should be too.” He steps away from the couches and towards the other side of the dorm, but turns around once more. “I’m taking back my room, by the way. So I hope you’ve put aside your hostility.”

 

“Look,” Woojin says as stands up from the couch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “We haven’t been on the greatest terms for years, obviously. But with everything that’s been happening, that’s happened to _us_ , I think it’s time we call for a truce.”

 

Jihoon taps his foots few times, eyes trained on the floor. Then he nods slowly, “Reasonable enough.”

 

Woojin rocks gently on his heels, unsure of what to do next. “Okay.”

 

Jihoon makes a move to leave again, but Woojin stops him once more. “I’m sorry I drove you out of here.” Woojin says carefully. “Even if I was mad, it was shitty of me to kick you out of where you live.”

 

Jihoon holds his gaze for a moment, and then smirks, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, you didn’t kick me out, I left. But I’ll still grudgingly accept your apology and your admittance to being shitty.”

 

Woojin nods, unable to throw back an insult this time, and when he doesn’t say anything more, Jihoon makes his way to his room.

 

It’s hard to forget the fact that some of your deepest secrets are out there to other people’s knowledge, especially when they’re with someone you’re not sure you trust. But there’s no one Jihoon can blame but himself, after all, he’d been the one to tell Woojin all of the unnecessary details of his tragic life without even being asked to. It also doesn’t help that the things he tried so hard to push back into a corner of his mind with the intent of them to remain there, repressed and forgotten, are now seated right in front of him, reminding him just how pathetic his life is. 

 

So when Jihoon finds himself at his desk in the dim of his candlelit room, drinking himself into oblivion on this November night, it’s really no surprise. Jihoon is miserable tonight, that much is evident. In fact, one could say that this was his typical state, at least more often than not, anyways. A moment of despair never seems to be just a  _moment_  to him anymore. The faint fire of the candle stares at him mockingly, almost laughing at him for still having even a  _sliver_ of hope for himself when it’s been proven time and time again that he was never meant to have any. The thing about hope is that it breeds eternal misery.

 

Jihoon doesn’t know what time it is, can’t even recall anything he had done today, other than the usual brooding about that he’s been doing nowadays. Maybe he’s supposed to be regretting this—supposed to realize at some point that all of this running away won’t do him any good. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he doesn’t really _care_ to do well anyways. He tried for years, worked himself to the bone until it became clear to him that it wouldn’t work, no matter what he did. Nothing changed, and nothing would ever change because he’s felt so empty for so long that there’s not a big enough miracle in the world that could ever fill that hollowness anymore.

 

He’s done with trying.

 

He glances at the stack of letters piled up in front of him at the edge of the desk; the ones his mother had sent him the year he’d started at Hogwarts. His eyes trail through the piles, recalling how after second year he stopped reading, and after third year they stopped coming. He should really throw them away, they were useless at this point, clutter that had no purpose in this room.

 

But he can’t.

 

No matter how many times he’s stood in front of the fireplace with the letters in hand, holding them over the fire, he could never bring himself to do it. He doubts he’ll ever read them again, and new ones would never come. But here he is, four years later and those damned letters are still sitting there, half of them unopened, hidden in the back corner of his desk and he can’t seem to get rid of them. He should be eager to throw them away, to get rid of the last piece of tangible material that reminds him of his past, of the exact moment he couldn’t do anything to protect her. Something in the back of his mind is telling him he should be feeling bad about leaving them untouched, maybe he already is. Because before he knows it, his fingers are tracing over a letter, one dated _June 24, 2012_ , a few weeks before his mother’s death.

 

Hesitantly, he lifts up the seal, fingers shaking as he pulls out the crumpled piece of paper inside.

 

_Things could potentially become dangerous, I fear. I know that it bothers you not knowing what is going on, and I do wish to tell you, but it’s more important to me that you stay safe. And you’re doing incredible in school, after all, I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of your joy for learning. But if anything should happen dear, I want you to know that I love you, and that you’re father loves you even if he may not show it often. Everything we’ve done is for your future, and we’ll make sure to see through to it that you’re able to have the best possible life we can give you. Stay safe, Jihoon._

_Love,  
Mom_

 

Jihoon starts to feel like the words have turned into hands, choking him with their ink-stained fingers. The misery comes crashing down on him all at once, and Jihoon is unprepared for the storm despite all of the warnings he was given. His eyes are close but he imagines a dark figure hovering over him, holding a life line but refusing to help him. It steals his air without even touching him, watches him struggle on his own by his suffocating thoughts. The pressure consumes him, and he comes to the dreadful realization that all of the little things that keep him happy are all a temporary oxygen—never meant to last long, only builds him up to tear him down again, watching as he tries to pick himself back up every time, each cycle a little more broken. Oxygen floats through the air in front of him like his rival, dancing around him for long enough to think he has a moment to breathe, and then laughs in his face when he falls to the floors as it makes a show of how much control it has over him, how he’ll fight over and over again until he can no longer find the will to.

 

 

He’s a ticking time bomb and everyone knows it.

 

 

 

 

 

hiraeth — ii.

 

There’s nothing Woojin wants more than to stop Jihoon from invading his mind nearly every hour of the day. At this point it’s just _creepy_ to be thinking about someone who’s supposed to be his enemy this much at a time, but there’s just so much he had gotten roped into in the past few days and they all happen to involve said enemy, so it’s just difficult _not_ to think about him. What’s _really_ the problem out of this whole situation however, is how much reflecting he’s done because of Park Jihoon, of all people. How could one revelation be so powerful as to make him question everything he’s believed in all of his life?

 

Woojin had lived for a long time thinking everything he was taught as a kid were things set in stone, things that would remain unchanged. He thought that was what it meant to be strong—to be unwavering and firm in your beliefs and in the person you are. He hadn’t even considered that maybe being strong wasn’t so much refusing to take the step, but it was doing so and accepting you might fall, only because you had faith that you could get back up again, smarter, _stronger._

 

Maybe he _is_ being the selfish one. It’s shallow to think that a person could only ever be as much as the surface portrays, to think that he’s the only one with a story simply because his story is the only one he knows. And as much as Woojin may hate being proven wrong, he thinks it’s a much more slimy feeling to go on perpetuating beliefs when you know they cause harm.

 

When he’d seen Jihoon last night, so vulnerable, so broken, it struck a chord in him. Woojin was one of the people hurting him. He was the one refusing to be accepting, denouncing him to a mere lackey of his house’s distinguishing traits just because he could. Just because everyone did it, so _he_ could. It’s makes him feel pathetic when he watches Jihoon’s obvious reluctance to be in the hall for lunch today, knowing exactly what Headmistress Kwon was going to announce.

 

“I know there have been some unsettling rumors floating around for the past few days, and with the worrisome, unexplainable events that had happened in Hogsmeade village this weekend, I believe it’s only right that we inform you of what has been happening.” Kwon looks just as reluctant up at the front of the room, and Woojin catches the brief glance she takes towards the Slytherin table before speaking up again. “I’m sure many of you by now have read the Daily Prophet, and are aware of a woman named Solanine Grimm escaping from Azkaban yesterday morning.”

 

The room breaks out into indistinctive chatter, and this time, Woojin has no desire to partake in any of it. “Quiet down please.” Appleby insists from Kwon’s side, attempting to hush the crowd.

 

“Now it is unsure what will come of this event, but we have taken measures to ensure the security of all of our students and so we wish that you do not panic at this time, and continue to go on about your daily routines. It is also your duty to be mindful of your actions as to avoid any harm, so for the time being I ask that you all be very careful and watch out for one another. We trust that you all will go about this wisely. That is all.”

 

The chattering starts back up again, and Woojin can’t help his eyes from wandering over to the Slytherin table, where he finds Jihoon, so obviously stirring in turmoil that it’s even stressing _him_ out.

 

“I can’t believe the entire student body is in danger because of one student.” Hyunmin laments, but the comment only works to rile Woojin up, though he’s unsure of why it bothers him so much.

 

“Well, maybe he’s having just as much of a hard time than us, even worse.” Woojin bites out defensively, flinching when the rest of his friends turn towards him with confusion.

 

“He?” Jaehwan repeats, raising a curious brow.

 

Woojin stills his hands, pressing his lips into a thin line. His stupid mouth is always trying to get him caught. “Whoever that student is, they’re probably scared to death. Maybe it’s not even their fault.” He attempts to put out the spark of fire he’d started, and even though none of them look like they’re buying into it, they do look conflicted enough to refrain from pressing his defensiveness. “All I’m saying is, we shouldn’t be so quick to judge when we don’t even know the full story.”

 

“He’s right.” Chungha jumps in to save him, much to his relief. “Whoever it is, they’re in danger too, and we should be trying to help them.” Hyunmin pouts, but there’s an apologetic look on his face and he says nothing more. When Woojin looks back up to find Jihoon, he’s no longer in his seat.

 

 

 

 

 

After that days classes, they’re in what is steadily becoming their usual arrangement in the common room, ironically seated on the couches opposite of their rooms. Jihoon has a book in his lap, his glasses perched onto the edge of his nose, but he’s not focused on the book at all. Instead, he’s spacing out at the wall behind Woojin, and he can practically see the gears turning in Jihoon’s mind.

 

The stuff he had found out last night had been rather heavy, weighing on his mind for more time than he spends on regular things. It feel too invasive, too personal. And sure, maybe he would have found out eventually anyways, the truth was slowly beginning to come out and it’s only a matter of time before the entire Wizarding World will have their hands on Jihoon’s life story. But Jihoon had been the one to tell him, and he doesn’t know what to do with that fact. Was it a moment of weakness? Would he have told anyone no matter who was listening to him that night, simply because of how shaken he had been?

 

Woojin isn’t someone that Jihoon would entrust his deepest secrets with, he knows this all too well. So it’s just _weird_ that Jihoon has yet to jump at any chance to hold his wand up against his neck and threaten him to keep his mouth shut. And of course Woojin had actually never planned to from the start—people have things they want to keep from the rest of the world and that isn’t his business, isn’t his place to announce someone else’s secrets. But he can’t help but wonder why Jihoon isn’t hell bent on silencing him for the information he has.

 

To his disadvantage, Jihoon notices his staring before he can snap himself back to reality, a mix of annoyance and curiosity on his face. “Why are you staring at me?”

 

“I’m not staring at you, I just blanked out.” Woojin insists, clearing his throat.

 

“Blanked out thinking about _me_.” Jihoon says pointedly, an eyebrow lifted, and Woojin is both embarrassed and confused. Surely he couldn’t be _that_ transparent.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

Jihoon pauses, somewhat troubled. “I felt it.”

 

Woojin sends him a nonplussed stare. “What?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s kind of like that tug you felt that led you towards me a few days ago.” Jihoon explains, closing his book and placing it onto the coffee table in front of them. “It’s odd, it was like I was in your mind and I knew what you were thinking but I couldn’t actually hear any of it.”

 

Woojin scrunches his nose, attempting to understand the situation. “That’s.. vague.”

 

“And exactly the thing I wanted to avoid.” Jihoon huffs, carding his fingers through his hair. Woojin tries not to linger on the weird feeling his stomach makes every time he sees Jihoon in those glasses. “I don’t think these things are always going to stay vague, I think they’re just taking it’s time to surface because this whole bond thing is still relatively new.”

 

“It could also be the fact that we’re still standoffish with each other.” Woojin adds to their working theory, “I doubt soulmates before have been this indifferent towards each other. We could be blocking each other out of our mindscapes because we’re being distant.”

 

“Okay seriously, stop using the word _soulmate_.” Jihoon complains, to which the corners of Woojin’s mouth quirk up in amusement. “And you’re being too idealistic. Not every pair with a soul-bond have to be best friends and romantically involved.”

 

“Well yeah, but its whole purpose is to make us learn from each other, to connect us because we’re supposedly essential for each other, and I don’t think having a rivalry supports the bond.” Woojin proposes, mind shifting back into work. “Maybe the strength of our bond has to do with the strength of our relationship.”

 

“It’s plausible.” Jihoon allows him, “But I still don’t want you wandering around in my head.”

 

Woojin rolls his eyes. “Well we can’t just keep detesting each other, we’ll never be able to use this to our advantage.”

 

“And what exactly do we need an advantage for?”

 

Woojin wets his lips. “You’re in danger, Jihoon.” He gets straight to the point, watching Jihoon grow uncomfortable all over again. “If some higher being bonded us for a reason, I’m pretty sure it was for this. And I know you don’t want to believe that I can be of any help to you, but at the very least I’m gonna _try_.”

 

Jihoon sucks in a cheek, biting down on the inside. “Fine. But if you’re going to get invasive then you’ve got another thing coming for you.”

 

Woojin waves a dismissive hand, “Like I’d even need to spend time dissecting your inner fantasies.”

 

Jihoon scoffs loudly, throwing him a disbelieving look. “Who said anything about hidden fantasies?”

 

“Oh please, what else would you need to hide other than your inner freak? It’s not like I’m surprised, Jihoon, it’s normal.”

 

“Bloody hell.” The older hisses, narrowing his eyes at Woojin when he merely shrugs with a smug _Accio_ as the book Jihoon had placed down flies over into his hands.

 

After more minutes of silence and reading, Woojin speaks up again. “Why do you think she hasn’t acted on it to a fuller extent?” He asks precariously. “After escaping, I mean.”

 

Jihoon doesn’t answer for a while, tapping at the edge of his book. “She wants to plant fear in me, wants me to be wary every second of every day. No rest, no comfort.” Woojin feels like he has more to say, so he stays quiet and let’s Jihoon gather his thoughts. “But it’s not just me that she could hurt. I saw how scared people were at lunch today, they’re fearing for their lives. My _friends_ are fearing for their lives.”

 

“We still have this connection, don’t we?” Woojin offers for some form of comfort, “As soon as we figure out how to use this to our advantage, we can fight her and whoever else is with her.”

 

“I guess we’re just gonna have to wait and find out what we can do.” Jihoon concludes, shaking away the concern. He looks up and gives him a serious look, “Not a word about this to anyone, Woojin. This stays between us for now.”

 

Woojin raises his hands defensively. “I won’t talk.” He contemplates his next words for a bit, before decidedly saying, “But there might be someone who will. There was someone else who saw the exchange when you were with your father.”

 

Jihoon stiffens, worry taking over his features. “Who?”

 

Woojin tries to recall his name, “A friend of yours, I think. Kim Donghan.”

 

 

 

 

 ☾ 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sad times all the time
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	4. Chapter 4

 

acquiesce (verb).  
**\ ˌæk.wiˈes \**  
to assent tacitly;  **submit**  or comply silently or   
**without** **protest** ; agree; consent.

 

 

* * *

 

   

 

acquiesce — i.

 

_if, in the end_

_fate is above it all_

_is there purpose_

_in rising just to fall?_

  

 

 

Jihoon couldn’t exactly deny the rumors that had surfaced about him ever since that day at Hogsmeade. It’s not like there’s much for a community as small as the Wizarding World to talk about, especially since the center of it all is a student from their school. But somehow, baseless suspicions led to false stories, and ultimately Jihoon had become the victim of accusation, all without speaking a word of it.

 

Multiple people had come up to him today—a Gryffindor spiting him for putting the entire school in danger, younger Ravenclaw students pestering him about the truth, even a little Hufflepuff apologizing about the contempt thrown at him and pitying him for it. It took all of a week for the word to spread, and the world must have collectively decided that because he’s currently the most noted suspect, he _must_ be the target.

 

Jihoon feels himself seething; he’d worked so tirelessly in an effort to keep himself an enigma, to dodge the nature of people to be meddlesome and prying, but it had all gone to dust in the span of a week. Ever since the news had started to get around, Jihoon's life had started to feel less like his and more like a mere topic of conversation for everyone else to derive entertainment from.

 

When he reaches the Slytherin dungeons he’s only focused on finding one person, and that person happens to make it easy for him when he’s lounging in his bed, looking infinitely unbothered. Donghan seems to understand the indignation on his face immediately, scooting towards the edge of the bed and holding his hands up defensively. “I didn't do it.”

 

Jihoon narrows his eyes at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “How’d you know what I was going to ask?”

 

“Because I know what’s been going around the school.” Donghan answers, “And that’s your accusing face.”

 

“Well let’s not waste any more time, start giving me some answers Donghan.” Jihoon frowns slightly. He likes Donghan, and the fact that he even has to question him right now feels wrong, but Donghan had been the only other one besides Woojin to see what had happened in Hogsmeade, and Woojin, as annoying as he may be, seemed genuine when he told him he wouldn’t say anything.

 

“I did see what happened that day, I admit that.” Donghan starts cautiously, “But I promise you I didn’t speak a word to anyone. I know that you know it, too. I wouldn’t do that.”

 

Jihoon nibbles on his bottom lip, tapping his foot as he thinks. He watches Donghan’s face and sees none of it, no careful calculation, no shiftiness, just honesty. He drops his arms to his sides, sighing heavily. “Fuck, I know you wouldn't.” He groans, realizing he hadn’t gotten anywhere. “But this is stressing me out and this is the last fucking thing I needed this year.”

 

He plops onto Seongwoo’s bed just next to Donghan’s, head falling into his hands in distress. He hears footsteps coming towards him and then he feels Donghan’s hand on his shoulder, a comforting squeeze. “I’m really sorry, mate. Wish I could find out whoever did it and hex ‘em myself.”

 

“My life has really turned to shit, hasn’t it?” Jihoon falls back onto Seongwoo’s bed, shutting his eyes.

 

“Well, can’t argue with you there.” Donghan says with grim honesty. “Or you could just oblivate the entire Wizarding World.”

 

Jihoon has to bark a laugh at that, “Wouldn’t that be brilliant.”

 

Donghan lands on his back next to him, pushing a sigh past his lips. “We’re a sad bunch, aren’t we?”

 

Jihoon grins bitterly. “You’ve got that right.”

 

Just then, he hears two familiar voices fill up the room, forcing him up from Seongwoo’s bed. “Oh, hey, when’d you get here?” Jinyoung acknowledges him and Daehwi waves as he’s pulling off his scarf and his coat.

 

“Few minutes ago.” He answers, watching Donghan rise from the bed.

 

“I’m off to Quidditch practice, catch you guys later.” Donghan rummages for his stuff and the three of them wave him off.

 

It’s weird to see the two of them after the whole fiasco had dominated the school. Jinyoung had known about his family since third year, after Jihoon had exposed himself in a moment of weakness, while he was in his most vulnerable state, still traumatized from the event. But this was the first time Daehwi was hearing about it, and now Jihoon has to deal with _that_ problem among his many others.

 

“How are you holding up?” Jinyoung asks, concerned. “Those blokes really had nothing else to talk about all day. I couldn’t go one second without hearing someone babbling on about it everywhere I turned.”

 

“The reporters got their narrative. It’s out, and there’s only so much avoidance I can swing when every bloody person in this castle is hounding me about it.” Jihoon mutters, growing progressively uncomfortable with the way Daehwi is looking at him.

 

“So it’s true?” Daehwi queries, frowning. “I’ve been on at least twenty people’s backs today, going off about how they were baseless accusations.”

 

Jihoon lets out a harsh breath, expression hardening. “Yeah, it’s true.”

 

“You knew about this?” Daehwi turns to Jinyoung, who looks infinitely more frazzled than him. But before he can open his mouth to say anything, Daehwi turns his head back to Jihoon. “How could you not tell me about it?”

 

“It’s not exactly casual dinner conversation.” Jihoon grits out through his teeth, eyes concentrated on the window sill between the two of them.

 

“We didn’t intend to keep you out of it.” Jinyoung tries to explain, “Jihoon hadn’t even planned to tell me, it was an accident.”

 

Daehwi holds a hand up to stop him, closing his eyes with a sigh. “Betrayal aside,” He opens them again to look at him, “How did it even get out anyways? How did people settle on you as the so called target?”

 

Jihoon rubs at his temples, “Either someone must have witnessed the attempted attack on me at Hogsmeade last weekend, or this is Solanine’s weirdly elaborate plan to have my name to be all over the papers in hopes that someone will just _hand_ me to her.”

 

"Wouldn't that still put her at a disadvantage though?" Jinyoung questions.

 

"I don't know anymore, dude." Jihoon rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated. 

 

“You were attacked?” Daehwi’s eyes widen, having to take in so many things at once. “Was this after you left us to go off somewhere? I knew we should have let you come with us.”

 

“I was meeting with my father.” Jihoon clarifies, “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

 

“I wish you’d stop thinking that you can handle all of this yourself.” Daehwi watches him sadly. “You’re not a damn martyr, Jihoon.”

 

“This is my problem, not yours.” Jihoon scowls, turning away. “This doesn’t concern just anyone, this concerns my family, including the both of you. She can burned the rest of the whole damn world down for all I care, but she’s not touching you.”

 

“Well she’s not touching you either.” Jinyoung replies stubbornly, holding his head up and trying valiantly to be heroic but all it did was upset Jihoon.

 

“You can’t help that.” Jihoon tells him simply.

 

“You can’t stop us.” Daehwi adds conclusively, making himself crystal clear that he isn’t going to budge. Jihoon bites down on his cheek, feeling his stomach drop. All these years of fear, of worrying that the demons of his past would come back to haunt him—wreak havoc on his present, brutally and mercilessly—are now more real than ever, and now everyone he loves may have to pay the price for his family’s mistakes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Jihoon finally finds his way back to the Head dorm, he’s immediately met with the sight of a sleeping Woojin, hanging off of the couch in the weirdest position, mouth hanging open and quiet snores filling the common room. Jihoon snorts at the sight, moving to pick up the blanket from the other couch and casually throwing it over the resting Gryffindor before making his way to his room.

 

Even if the whole school had learned about his past, Daehwi and Jinyoung were still in the dark about a lot of his life. He’d almost caved in and told them about the soulbond back in the dungeons, but there was something that kept him from doing so. It’s no secret that Daehwi, even being the darling he is, has loose lips whether he means to or not. The kid has so much information about everyone and everything stored in that brain of his that sometimes things slip out, and Jihoon already has enough of his life printed in the Daily Prophet for everyone to see, he didn’t need anything else getting out, especially not this.

 

He wonders if Woojin had told anyone about it; surely his friends were the types of people to want to know everything about each other. But it’s not like Woojin was any more thrilled than he was to be bonded to him, he had no reason to want to tell anyone.

 

Whatever the case was, something changed that night beyond question, when he’d laid his pride down and let himself be vulnerable in front of Woojin, let the Gryffindor look at him with all of the pity and compassion because he was just so tired of keeping his mother’s death a secret. Even since the revelation of their bond, there had been a shift in their dynamic; nothing dramatic by any means, but definitely not as hostile, or at least less with the intent to hurt each other. That's not to say that their bickering had stopped even in the slightest—Woojin’s ridicule is still in full swing, and Jihoon couldn’t help his mocking even if he tried, but doing this had suddenly become more about keeping the witty rapport between them than anything else. In fact, Jihoon thinks he quite likes this neutral sort of association that they’d built over the past few weeks. The existence of the bond wasn’t something that could fix years of aggression in a day, and Jihoon would imagine anything more than civility would be weird for the both them.

 

This whole situation is like cauldron of trauma that he doesn't know how to get out of. He'd thought that moving on would be as simple as refusing to look back, refusing to remember. But now, he finds himself looking for healing, for closure. And that's something he's not sure he's ever going to get. Because there's always that one distinct face, that unmistakable voice that hangs over every thought and every reminder of that night. And that voice is now free, free to intrude his mind without taking so much as a step in his direction, without having to be anywhere near him. All she needed to do was exist without restriction for Jihoon to feel every tremor that her face sends through his body, feel her wand pressed harshly against his throat and steal his air. He doesn't want to let her have this kind of power over him, let her very existence instill this immeasurable fear in him.

 

The bond has to have _some_ use for this, it would only make sense for it to do so. He was bonded because he _needed_ the strength, or else his own mental reserve would cave in on itself. Because as much as he hates to admit it, for all that Woojin is strong and determined, Jihoon is cowardly and weak-hearted. Woojin told him they would have the advantage, that they could put an end to this and give him the conclusion he needed to his years of torment. It's foolish for him to believe this could be true, and yet he still scarcely dares to believe, lets the horrible feeling of hope spring to his heart because it _has_ to get better someday.

 

 

People keep telling him that it gets better later, but why is later taking so long?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

acquiesce — ii.

 

 

“Hey, check this out.” Woojin hadn’t known how or when he had ended up on Jihoon’s couch, seated right next to him, but it’s definitely a lot more convenient to share information this way, as opposed to reaching over the coffee table for it. “Apparently the charm used to create the marks is called a Vinculum charm.”

 

“Vinculum?” Woojin repeats, eyebrows knit. “That’s ‘bond’ in Latin, right?” Jihoon nods. “I would have thought that these arose from Protean charms.”

 

“No, I think a Protean charm would link together everyone with a soulmark.” Jihoon corrects him, “A Vinculum charm is probably specific to the two people it’s linking together. Maybe that’s why the marks are all different for every pair.”

 

Woojin hums thoughtfully. “I suppose. Protean charms only make one copy of the object the master, as well. So it wouldn’t make sense for a soul-bond between two people to have only one master.” Woojin tries to recall as much as he can about the charm; it’s a NEWT level charm but he hadn’t been able to read up much on it yet, though it’s clear Jihoon has been jumping ahead.

 

“Exactly, there is no one true object here.” Jihoon confirms, licking his lips before taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Woojin had noted that he had a habit of doing that whenever he was trying to connect pieces of information together. “And it says here that a Vinculum charm can’t make physical changes to the object it’s created. But it’s the reason for our soul and mindscapes beginning to connect, why we can visit them as if it’s our own.”

 

“Is there any way to control it?”

 

“With effort yes, but there’s a whole list of the pros and cons of keeping your other half blocked out of your mindscape.” Jihoon answers, “There’s also a lot here on learning how to control our combined magic.”

 

“Oh right, I forgot about that.” Woojin marvels quietly, “Should we try it?”

 

“Combined magic isn’t exactly a walk in the park to understand, let alone control.” Jihoon frowns, fingers lightly tapping at the edge of the book. “I think we’re gonna need to do a lot of practicing.”

 

“Maybe we can start with some defensive spells.” Woojin suggests, hopping up onto his feet. “I read earlier that affecting each other with magic is easier with the bond, maybe we can test out the difference.”

 

“Okay.” Jihoon agrees, getting up from the couch as well. “Just, try not to break anythi— _whoa_!” Before he can finish his sentence he’s being thrown across the room, knocking over the vase sitting on the end table in the process. The older hits the ground just in front of the entrance, glaring up at him, to which he returns a sheepish look.

 

“Okay, _technically_ that was your fault for thrusting your arm out.” He says in defense, but it only irritates Jihoon even more, as he casts _Tarantallegra_ at him. Woojin’s eyes widen as he feels his feet start to move, arms flailing about, legs taking him dancing around the room.

 

“Jihoon this isn’t funny!” Woojin shouts out, almost clambering over the back of the couch in his uncontrollable state. “ _Finite Incantatem_!” And then he _actually_ flings himself ungracefully over the couch immediately after the counter-spell terminates the jinx. Woojin whips his head up with a glare, feet sticking up in the air with his hands reaching towards the floor to catch himself from nearly breaking his nose.

 

Jihoon snickers hysterically, “Well don’t start a fight you can’t finish, Red.”

 

“Oh, I’m not finished.” Woojin rolls off of his stomach to get back up onto his feet, holding out his wand and sending _Expelliarmus_ at the same time Jihoon happens to. The light in their wands shoot out at each other, but when the scarlet hits in the middle the light grows bigger, almost merging, and out of it comes a golden light. The golden mass shrinks into a smaller ball of light, floating gently around the air between them. “What.. is _that_.”

 

“What did you do, Woojin?” Jihoon asks slowly, eyeing the glowing mass apprehensively, taking a step away from it.

 

“What did _I_ do? It came from both of our wands!” Woojin argues, striding towards it, intrigued.

 

“Don’t touch it!” Jihoon snarls, bringing his wand back up with narrowed eyes.

 

“Oh calm down, it’s a tiny ball of light, it looks harmless.”

 

“So do cats until they nearly scratch your eyes out.” Jihoon counters with a tense jaw, though he takes a hesitant step towards it as well. The light seems to shimmer even more as the both of them get closer to it. “If the school somehow gets blown up because of this thing, this is all on you.”

 

“How is it _my_ fault?” Woojin throws his arms up exasperatedly, “You’re the one who didn’t follow orders and thought it would be more fun to _jinx_ me than practice.”

 

“Maybe if you learned how to give a proper warning I would have been ready for your first attack!” Jihoon snaps, and at that exact moment the golden mass explodes, turning the room a bright white as the both of them are sent flying back to opposite sides of the room. Woojin’s back hits the wall and he lands hard on the floor with a groan. When the light evanesces, little golden specs float down in its place until there’s nothing left in the space that had just blasted them backwards. The air clears and Woojin spots Jihoon clutching at his head, a painting having fallen just next to him from the force when Jihoon had hit the wall.

 

Woojin scrambles up onto his feet, rushing to the other side of the room where the brunette sat. He wraps his arms around Jihoon’s shoulders, gently pulling his weight off of the wall. “Are you okay?”

 

“Might have lost a few brain cells in the process but yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Woojin snorts, the tension having dissipated a little. “So the bugger knows how to crack a joke, hey?”

 

“You are hardly making this situation any better.” Jihoon grumbles, swatting his hand away when Woojin tries to comb down his hair sticking out in disarray with his fingers. Woojin makes an displeased face, but takes a seat on the floor next to him when it’s clear that the brunette is still recuperating. “Have any idea what that light was?”

 

“I was thinking that maybe that’s what the books meant by quadrupled magic. ‘ _The combination of magic artificially created_ _through two wizards of a soulbond carries quadruple the amount of energy that the individuals possess_.’” Woojin offers an explanation after recalling what the book had said on combined magic, pulling his legs up and propping his upper body onto his knees by his forearms. “We used the same spell at the exact same time, correct?” Jihoon nods slowly, attempting to wrap his head around the event. “Our magic must get stronger when we use it together. When the spells met in the middle they combined and created a stronger force, and that’s why we got blasted back so powerfully.”

 

“This is weird.” Jihoon murmurs, looking rather disturbed. “And potentially extremely dangerous. If we could create a big explosion like that with a simple disarming spell, what could happen if a soul-bond is used to amplify dark magic?”

 

Woojin feels his stomach churn at that; he hadn’t even considered the possibility of of anyone using the bond powers for bad. “The results would be pretty deadly, I’d expect.”

 

He watches as the brunette’s face contorts into myriad of emotions that for a moment he can’t figure out which one stands out the most. There’s perplexity and shock, but ultimately fear washes over. His voice goes quiet, so quiet that Woojin almost misses it. “What if Solanine has a soulbond?”

 

The restless feeling is back again, only stronger, and he can’t tell if it’s his own distress or if Jihoon’s emotions are overcoming him. “Chances are it would have been her husband.” He drawls out apprehensively, a pang in his chest as he watches Jihoon’s face fall even more.

 

“And what happens if one half of a soulbond dies..?”

 

Woojin bites down on his lip hard, wincing at the pain. “I reckon that would feel pretty empty.. and who knows what other kind of effects it would have on the other.”

 

Jihoon closes his eyes, forehead creasing, leaning his shoulder back against the wall behind him. Woojin isn’t sure of what to do, if any attempt at comfort would help or only make him more upset. Still, he tries, wordlessly placing a hand on Jihoon’s own, letting them sit in the silence until Jihoon decides to speak. “I think we should go to Kwon.”

 

Woojin raise a surprised brow, “Are you sure? If we get the Headmistress involved there’s no telling how much you’ll have to reveal to her.”

 

“She knows.” Jihoon says pointedly. “About me, my family.” It comes as a shock to Woojin, although it does provide insight as to why he’d seen her glance at the Slytherin table during the Solanine announcement. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could Kwon make a target a head of the student body?’”

 

Woojin shakes his head at the allegation. “Actually, I don’t think it’s all that ridiculous. Even if you _are_ a pain in the arse, you’re not weak, I can tell you that much.” He brings himself to admit, much to Jihoon’s surprise. “And you’re not top of the class for nothing, I of all people should know that.”

 

A smirk tugs at Jihoon’s lips, “Well, that is true. Except I’ll gladly admit I come second only to you in being an arse.”

 

Woojin scoffs, but can’t help a grin of his own. “Don’t forget Arithmancy.”

 

Jihoon’s smirk drops into a scowl instantly, shoving him before picking himself off of the floor and dusting his robes off. “We do _not_ talk about Arithmancy.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I can’t say I didn’t expect this, but I must admit I’m surprised that you two have managed to find out so much about the soulbond already.” Headmistress Kwon paces back and forth in front of the bookshelf in her office, making a steeple of her fingers in front of her after considering their predicament. “Soulbonds do not exist for every witch or wizard, and that is why it is unheard of to minors and to many other people who do not experience the bond. It’s very powerful and thus they do not show up until both individuals of the soulbond reach the legal age.”

 

“Professor do you know why we were bonded together?” Woojin questions, “I know that we’ve never been on the best terms with each other, but a lot of people don’t get along. I can’t understand why it happened to us.”

 

Kwon purses her lips, moving to take a seat in her chair. “It is true that soulbonds usually happen to occur for those that are at odds with each other, but this is not the reason that a bond occurs. It is not so much that you are forced together to conciliate than it is a true desire of the soul to integrate with its best counterpart. You two, whether you choose to believe so or not, are very alike. The nature of a soul is a lot more powerful than we think it to be. It is the soul itself that decides our need for a bond with someone else, someone whose importance we may overlook if not for the bond. And this need is only strong enough in some people.”

 

“I can see why _I_ would need a bond, but what about Woojin? How did my soul decide that Woojin was the one I needed to bond with?” Woojin can feel the inquisitiveness radiating off of Jihoon, the intensity of his desire to know, to understand.

 

“I suppose you can think of it as fate.” Kwon supplies, making Woojin squirm with the word. It sounded peculiar, to call the something that had brought him and Jihoon together _fate_. “There may be other figures in your life that you have strong relationships with, but in the end, the soul will only latch onto the one person they see best fit. I have no way of determining exactly why you two have been bonded, only that your connection was deemed strong enough to require your essence within each other. But it is up to the two of you to learn to understand it, control it, and utilize it to your best ability. With it, you can do incredible things.”

 

“We don’t know where to start.” Woojin mutters, a tad dishearteningly.

 

Kwon hums thoughtfully, tilting her head. “I think you already have.”

 

There’s a weird tension that fills the air when the two of them leave Kwon’s office, walking down the corridors both equally muddled in their thoughts.

 

“Do you believe her?” Jihoon queries, scrunching up his face. “About that whole ‘fate’ rubbish?”

 

“I think anything she says is valid, what would kids like us know?” Woojin remarks, though he feels his ears heat up slightly at the re-mentioning of the whole _fate_ concept. Woojin had expected some interesting things to happen in his final year, but never in his life would he have imagined that he would find out he was fated to Park Jihoon.

 

“But we don’t have time to spend on this.” Jihoon indicates, lethargy seeping through his voice. “We still have NEWTs to focus on and this has already been distracting us for weeks.”

 

“We can’t just ignore it, Jihoon.” Woojin tries to appeal, and sure, he was worried about NEWTs too, but this was also important and if they wanted any sense of normalcy back in their lives they needed to settle their growing curiosity of the absurd situation. “It’s gonna bother us no matter how hard we try to pretend it isn’t there. We both need a little peace of mind knowing that if it ever came to it we’ll be capable of tapping into our combined magic properly.”

 

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh, running a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. But let’s at least have some time to catch up with school work before we get back into it. Daehwi knew more than me in Transfiguration today, left a sour feeling in my mouth.”

 

“You poor thing.” Woojin snorts, “But that’s reasonable. We can start back up again when Christmas nears.”

 

Jihoon nods in agreement, and then his attention is taken away as he spots someone walking towards them. “Donghan!”

 

Woojin turns his head towards the other Slytherin, who gives him a once over before smiling at Jihoon and greeting him back. “Hey Hoon, headed to dinner?”

 

“Yeah, we just happened to walk out of the dorm at the same time.” Jihoon gestures between the two of them, making Woojin frown. So yeah, maybe their whole soulbond thing was a secret and Jihoon couldn’t tell Donghan the real reason why they had been together, but did he have to make it seem like they were still nothing more than rivals?

 

“Let’s walk together then. Jinyoung’s been complaining about how little time you spend in the dungeons now. I swear that kid has no idea what he wants, complains when he has something, complains when its gone, it’s driving me nuts!” Woojin follows behind awkwardly as Jihoon moves away from his spot beside him and next to Donghan, body language instantly more open and comfortable. Why was he always so tense with him? They had already agreed to civility a while back, it’s not like Woojin was actively trying to pester him anymore.

 

He doesn’t know why he finds himself wanting to capture Donghan’s attention, doesn’t know why he wants the Slytherin’s approval so much but he does, and it’s starting to creep him out. “Okay I’m getting very uncomfortable so I’m just gonna make my way out of here, if you would please excuse me.” Woojin more or less crams himself in the space between Jihoon and Donghan as he makes his escape away from these unwanted feelings and the situation _he_ was unwanted in.

 

It feels like forever ago since Woojin had seen his friends, a weird sort of foreign feeling in his chest when he sits down and greets them. “How’s it goin’?”

 

“I don’t know, how’s it going with you?” Jaehwan questions, a surly expression on his face. “We’ve barely spoken in days.”

 

“Aw, are you having withdrawals from me?” Woojin teases, nudging the other Gryffindor in the arm.

 

“Ha!” Jaehwan guffaws, “I am as in control of my emotions as a robot.”

 

Hyunmin face screws up in disbelief, “You’re a blubbering mess and you know it.”

 

Jaehwan caves in easily, pouting. “I just have a lot of feelings, _okay_?”

 

“He’s kinda right though.” Hyunmin continues, stuffing his mouth yet again. “You spend so much time in the Head dorm, I’d almost think you actually enjoyed spending time with the Slytherin.”

 

Woojin frowns. “He’s not that bad, actually. Slytherins in general too, if you really think about it.” The two of them cock their heads towards him, both giving him disbelieving looks. “What?”

 

“You just said that.” Jaehwan gapes, a finger pointing at him. “You, Park Woojin, just said that Slytherins ‘aren’t that bad’.”

 

Woojin shifts in his seat, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else at the table than here. “Well people can change, yeah?”

 

“Not after six years of spiting an entire group of people.” Hyunmin notes, and Woojin kind of wishes he had skipped dinner today. “What’s gotten into you?”

 

He shrugs nonchalantly, “I’ve been reflecting on my thought process and I think it’s about time I start to take the other perspective into account.”

 

“Where’s this coming from?” Hyunmin narrows his eyes, and then something looks like it’s clicked in him. “Ohhhhh, it’s the enemies to lovers story happening, isn’t it?”

 

Woojin splutters, choking on his food and regretting his choice of beginning to eat at the worst moment. “N-no.” He coughs a few times more, hitting his chest. “We just decided on a truce, to be civil with each other for the rest of the school year. And I’ve gotten to know him a little and it’s got me reflecting on my beliefs.”

 

“Riiiight.” Hyunmin extends the word with all of the dubiety he can lace around it.

 

“Well for the record, with those rumors going around, I don’t blame him. That’s a horrifying thing to go through.”

 

The teasing grin leaves Hyunmin’s face when Woojin lays down the facts, something akin to guilt taking its place. He nods slowly, “Yeah, you’re right. If it’s true, he didn’t deserve that.”

 

Woojin’s mouth sets into a hard line, fork stabbing offhandedly at his plate. “No.. no one does.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They encounter each other on the way back to the dorms from the hall, naturally falling into line with each other though they remain wordless the whole way back. Jihoon looks as troubled as usual, mind in a different place judging by the way he sways closer towards Woojin for mere seconds at a time, unable to keep himself walking in a straight line. Woojin lets him think, but not without a struggle, because he knows exactly what kind of thoughts he’s immersed in and he doesn’t want to let him delve into the negative but he wants to be respectful of his space and his business so he keeps quiet.

 

“Are you sleeping okay?” Woojin questions awkwardly before Jihoon can turn for his room, coughing into his fist when his breath basically collapses into his throat. “I’ve been losing some sleep lately so I thought that it might be worse with your situation.”

 

Jihoon shrugs indifferently, “I’ve always had trouble sleeping so even now it’s more or less the same.”

 

Woojin’s mouth forms an ‘o’, somewhat bothered by the revelation. “Insomnia?”

 

“Possibly.” Jihoon answers vaguely. “But sleep will have to wait anyways since I’m patrolling tonight.”

 

“Right.” Woojin unclasps his hands from behind his back, letting his arms swing by his sides. “Well, I’ll see you in Potions tomorrow, I guess.”

 

The brunette nods, lips quirking up slightly. “Yeah, just try not to make a mess with your failed experiments, yeah?”

 

Woojin rolls his eyes lightheartedly, kicking at the floor. “Yeah we get it, I’m bad at measurements.”

 

It may not be the first time but Woojin thinks he definitely doesn’t want it to be the last time, seeing Jihoon crack a genuine smile at him, a feeling warmer than any damn fireplace could make him feel. “Night, Red. Don’t dream about me.” Jihoon teases, pushing his way into his room.

 

“You wish!” Woojin throws back at him but Jihoon just waves a dismissive hand above him before closing his door.

 

When he’s lying in bed that night he can’t really explain the peculiar feeling that’s swirling in him, can’t attribute it anything _rational_ at least. Anytime he thought about how much weight Jihoon was carrying on his shoulders, and pretty much alone for all these years, makes him feel sick to his stomach. Even more so because he’d stood there unknowingly, preaching about selflessness, benevolence, and all Jihoon’s lack thereof. Every time he started it, picked a fight just for the sake of it, he was being everything he chided Jihoon in being—rude, assuming, and just as inconsiderate. They were both childish, and now with the soulbond in play they couldn’t afford to be the kids that they were. They had to be better.

 

When he’d suggested the truce, he hadn’t expected Jihoon to comply so easily, nor did he expect himself to be so willing. Maybe somewhere along the way their rivalry stopped becoming about hating each other, but only to be maintained because there was nothing else they could be to each other, and knowing the both of them, they wouldn’t accept _nothing_. They would never cease, they could never just _fizzle_ , so they kept at it. And now they have to be completely different people to each other, and for some reason, Woojin doesn’t hate the idea of it.

 

He hates that he doesn’t hate Park Jihoon in the slightest, in spite of everything he is.

 

 

 

When he feels like the air is being forced out of his lungs, heart pounding and head spinning, he blames it on the lack of sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

☾

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> easing into some lightheartedness(?) now, can't say it'll last forever though 
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

magnetic (adjective).  
**\ mag·net·ic , mag-ˈne-tik\**  
**:** possessing an extraordinary power or ability to **attract**

 

 

* * *

    

 

 

magnetic — i.

 

  _drawn in mindlessly, uncontrollably_

_your words are taking a hold of me_

 

 

 

"I told you my parents wouldn't mind accommodating you for Christmas." Hyunmin tells him once again. Woojin would be spending his first Christmas at Hogwarts this year, and though it’s kind of strange to be in the castle during the holidays, practically empty and quieter than usual, he thinks it’ll be a good opportunity to make the next two weeks as productive as he can. "Are you sure you don't want to go?"

 

Woojin turns him down for the millionth time, "I said I'm okay, Hyunmin. I have a lot to do and a shit ton to catch up on so I think it's best that I stay here. There will be less distractions here anyways now that most people will be gone."

 

"Just let him be." Jaehwan knocks against Hyunmin's arm, attempting to tug him away. "You can always owl him if you miss him too much to function."

 

Woojin snickers, flinging an arm around the pouting boy and ruffling his hair. "Have fun with your families, guys. Say to hi to them for me."

 

"Well you could say hi to them yourself but fine I guess this is just how it's gonna be." Hyunmin mumbles, clearly a lot more than just a little upset.

 

"Bye Woojin, Happy Christmas!" Yena waves at him with a smile, walking on ahead of a struggling Jaehwan lugging along a reluctant Hyunmin who still throws him a begrudging ' _Happy Christmas_ ' before letting himself be taken away.

 

When Woojin gets back to his room, he busies himself in books at his desk, studying for NEWTs. He had been planning on pestering Jihoon in the upcoming days to do more research on their soulbond, so before they could turn their focus on that, he used every other opportunity he could to prepare for his final exams, making sure that even if there were many distractions this year and surely more to come, his chances at passing his exams would remain high.

 

It's a simple morning for the most part, just working away at the desk in his room, alone and in the silence. When it nears half past noon he drops his quill, stretching his arms above him and making his way across the room towards one of his untouched luggages, slipping into a different attire for comfort.

 

When he leaves his room he finds Jihoon lazing in the common room, in a jumper that's way too big for him, judging by how the sleeves cover most of his hands. The older looks up at him when he hears him and instantly his face morphs into something akin to bewilderment. The brunette glares at him for a whole minute, and while Woojin feels like squirming under his gaze as it goes on, he can’t help but be thoroughly amused at his incredulity. “What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

 

Woojin looks down proudly at his attire—a Santa onesie, regrettably without the beard. “I have a whole luggage full of these things.”

 

“Please no.” Jihoon groans, tipping his head back onto the top of the couch. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be walking around the whole castle in _those_ every day.”

 

“Well of course I am, what do you take me for, a coward?” Woojin snorts, bouncing towards the other couch, plopping down with a satisfied look on his face.

 

Jihoon scowls at him, “You’re gonna embarrass me.”

 

“In front of the grand total of five people staying at school for the holidays? Yeah, that’ll be agonizing for you.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, almost half of my house is stuck here as well and if you’re gonna go around looking like that then you can consider our affiliation non-existent for the time being.” Jihoon replies stubbornly, turning back to his book.

 

Woojin pouts, “Wow, I thought we were _friends_ , Jihoon.”

 

For a split second Jihoon looks taken aback at the statement, but he jumps back so quick Woojin thinks he might have just been seeing things. “When did we decide that?”

 

“When I said it which was two seconds ago.” Woojin says stubbornly, crossing his arms. “So deal with it, serpent. Aren’t you going to lunch?”

 

“Not that hungry.” Jihoon replies without looking up at him, but Woojin doesn’t accept the answer.

 

“Well I say you are, so we’re going.” Before he can protest, Woojin already has his wrist by the hand as he pulls him up from the couch and towards the door.

 

“You’re not making me go out there with you when you’re in _that_.” Jihoon grimaces, though lets himself be pulled by him.

 

“And who’s gonna stop me? Certainly not you, it seems.” Woojin turns back to him with a smirk, and Jihoon doesn’t seem realize why he looks so smug until he follows Woojin’s gaze down to their hands. Jihoon let’s go of his hand immediately, flinging his arm away as if it had burnt him. 

 

“Unfortunately I actually am hungry, but stay away from me when we get there, please.”

 

He doesn’t, obviously. When Jihoon tries to part from him towards the Slytherin table, Woojin only follows him and sits himself right up against him like the aggravating person he loves to be. Jihoon sneers at him, sliding further down the bench until he finally gets the memo that Woojin would only continue to follow. The older looks wary of the glances they’re earning from the other Slytherins further down the bench wondering how and _why_ he dragged a Gryffindor to their table. “You are driving me up the wall, Red.”

 

Woojin shrugs innocently, “I’m just keeping you company.”

 

“Well keep someone else company, because I’ve had about as much as I can take of you today.” Jihoon stresses, urging him back towards the Gryffindor table but he doesn’t budge. The brunette shrinks into himself when a younger Slytherin wonders _What is he wearing_ out loud, to which Woojin gives the kid a lengthy explanation of why onesies are the most amazing invention in all of mankind.

 

Just then, someone comes up from behind them and sits next to Jihoon, flinging an arm over the brunette’s shoulders. Woojin leans over to see Donghan, who greets him with a three finger wave before pretending he doesn’t exist again. And just like that, Jihoon’s attention is gone and Woojin feels out of place, unsure of whether or not he should stay. All of his friends had gone home for the holiday break and suddenly Woojin is the the one regretting dragging them down here because there are two pretty boys right next to him who seem utterly uninterested in his presence along with a whole other table of people who all seem to want to jump at the chance to see who could break him first.

 

“So,” Donghan’s voice brings him out of his reverie, and Woojin realizes that the Slytherin’s gaze is now on him. “I take it you two aren’t the type to laze around your common room, spilling all the secrets there is to spill, discussing all the juicy details about your hookups.” If Woojin had an appetite, he would have had a untimely consumed bone lodged in his throat from that statement.

 

“Don’t be stupid, Donghan.” Jihoon hits the taller in the chest, “I bet you _Woojin_ here has never snogged anyone in his life.” The brunette casts him a provoking smirk, a little raise in his eyebrow that aggravates him.

 

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Woojin sneers, “Like he said, it’s not like we laze around the common room talking to each other about our _darkest secrets_.” Jihoon narrows his eyes at him, but says nothing.

 

“Well go on then, let’s give you a chance to brag, huh?” Donghan nudges him on, clearly amused. Woojin chuckles stiffly, no longer wanting to participate in the conversation. He should have left when he had the chance.

 

“I doubt you want to hear the details about who I, uh… _shag_.” He trips over the last word, coughing loudly as he props himself by his elbow, making a plethora of awkward movements with his head.

 

“Why wouldn’t we?” Donghan retorts, looking even more interested now that he’s been squirming with the attention. “At least name ‘em.”

 

“Yeah,” Jihoon jumps in, a devilish grin adorning his face. “Go on, name ‘em.”

 

He gives Jihoon a look of betrayal, the arm that was propping him up slips underneath him off of the table and he’s fumbling to sit still again. “W-well, uh,” He gulps, forehead creased as he thinks. “There was um, Kim Minju in fourth year.”

 

“Oh my god, you snogged Minju in fourth year?” Donghan snickers, “How did that happen? I thought Ravenclaws didn’t have time for that sort of thing.”

 

“Oh, you know, the compulsory seven minutes in heaven game near the end of the year, can’t escape it.” Woojin explains with dodgy eyes. “And then uh, in fifth year there was almost a thing with Sohye, we got close to dating but it kind of just fizzled out and never went anywhere.”

 

“Everyone knew about that one.” Donghan adds, “We were having bets in the dungeons on it. I won, of course.”

 

Woojin jerks away, mouth gaping. “Wha—you bet on us?”

 

“Whoops, sorry, wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.” Donghan says though Woojin knows he’s not actually sorry, not with that grin on his face. “Is that the end?”

 

“Well, last year Daniel kissed me on a dare, and kind of got… carried away after that and that was totally weird for everyone _but_ ,” Woojin pauses for a moment after speeding up the last part of his sentence. “We’re still friends now so I guess it wasn’t bad.”

 

Donghan hums, intrigued. “So you would have went for him if you weren’t friends?”

 

Woojin shrugs casually, “Maybe.”

 

When he finally looks at Jihoon again, he’s met with a weird glint in his eyes that he can’t decipher. Before he can try to make sense of it, the brunette shakes himself out of whatever he’d fallen into and plasters on a smirk. “Well, not exactly exciting by any means but it was _something_ so I suppose I should applaud you.”

 

“Isn’t it your turn now, Jihoon?”

 

Said boy breaks his frontage for a short moment to exclaim. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“You gotta spill your juicy secrets to Woojin now, since he just did.” Donghan says simply, gesturing for him to speak.

 

“Why on earth would I do that?” Jihoon asks incredulously, but Woojin can see the red of his ears peeking out through his hair.

 

“Because it’s fun!” Donghan chirps, “Like the fact that one of your hookups was me, isn’t that funny?” Woojin almost drops the pewter cup he’s holding, nearly spitting out the water he was drinking because _what_.

 

“Donghan.” Jihoon grits out through his teeth, looking like he was about to explode with anger towards his friend. “You don’t _tell_ anyone about that.”

 

“But why?” Donghan asks innocently, “As I recall it you had a great time, if only everyone else could hear—“

 

“Okay, we are _done_ with this meal.” Jihoon stands up abruptly, stepping out from the bench then pointing at Woojin. “You’re leaving too.”

 

“But we’re bonding!” Donghan whines with all of the delight in the world.

 

Jihoon snaps his head towards the other Slytherin, scowling. “I will deal with you later, you insufferable minger, and you’d better hope I’m not still furious by then.” He lugs Woojin along and out of the Great Hall. As they're walking back to their dorm, Woojin taps at Jihoon's arm then looks down at his wrist to indicate his tight grip. Jihoon lets go immediately, "Sorry."

 

"All good." Woojin says, rubbing at his wrist. "Thanks for getting me out of there by the way. Donghan somehow has a way of persuading you to talk about your life and it's honestly terrifying."

 

Jihoon snorts, "You just like being the center of attention all the time."

 

"Not true." Woojin frowns, crossing his arms. "Attention isn't always good."

 

"Yeah, I think I got that figured out." Jihoon mumbles, ending the conversation. He tries to make the walk back as casual as possible but Woojin can’t help but peer curiously. Jihoon seems to catch his staring in his peripheral vision so he snaps his head towards him. “What?”

 

“So, you and Donghan?” Woojin asks with a lifted brow, trying not to sound too interested.

 

“It was a one-time thing. Don’t judge me.” He says, miffed, picking up his pace. Woojin quickens his steps to keep at his side.

 

“I’m not judging, he’s a proper attractive bloke.” Woojin admits. “Just surprised me, that’s all. Considering what a stick in the mud you are.”

 

Jihoon lets out a loud ‘Ha!’, head whipping towards him with a myriad of curses conveying through his eyes. “A stick in the mud you can only dream of landing.”

 

They bicker the whole way back, until Jihoon makes a bee-line for his room and shuts the door, locking himself in there for the rest of the day and not allowing another word out of him. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Woojin decides this is his best idea yet. Which, objectively isn’t much of a high pedestal for him to reach, but trying was always better than nothing, so try he does. On the second night of their holiday break, Woojin finds himself, fully equipped with his elf onesie, knocking at Jihoon’s bedroom door. As soon as the door opens and without warning, Woojin slings an arm across Jihoon’s shoulder, ruffling his hair. “Hey snake! Wanna do some group reading?”

 

Jihoon glares at him like he’s on an assigned mission to kill him but Woojin only smiles wider, pulling the brunette closer to him. This doesn’t go without resistance, and Jihoon is throwing his arms out, trying to push his way out of Woojin’s hold. “What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Did you do something with your hair today? It looks nice.”

 

“Until you ruined it.” Jihoon mutters, flattening down his hair for any strays.

 

Woojin drops his arm to his side, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You know, you’ve barged into my room plenty of times, and most of them were to make fun of me, but you never let me go into your room.”

 

Before he can push his way past him, Jihoon puts a hand on his chest to stop him. “Nu-uh Gryff, this place is off limits for you.”

 

Woojin frowns, “Why?”

 

“Because you’ll contaminate it with your stupidity.” Jihoon throws back, trying to close the door on him. Woojin sticks his foot out to stop him, hands prying the door back open.

 

“Oh, don’t worry. If traits were contagious I’d be a carbon copy of your bitchy ass.” He says with a sardonic smile, jumping away yelping when Jihoon so much as slams the door in his face without even warning him to move his hand.

 

 

 

 

“Nice day today isn’t it?” He tries against on the night of Christmas Eve, proudly sporting his gingerbread onesie.

 

Jihoon turns towards the side of his room where the window is, then back at him, deadpanning. “There’s a thunderstorm outside.”

 

Before Jihoon can make sense of anything, Woojin takes the opportunity to run past him into the room. When he reaches the other end, he’s jumping in victory. “I’ve crossed the barrier!”

 

Jihoon runs a hand down his face, the other on his hip. He lets out a frustrated sigh, “I’m going to call Law Enforcement.”

 

“No you’re not.” Woojin says, stepping closer to him with a playful grin. “You wanna know why? Because I’m growing on _yooou_.” He sings cheekily, then goes back to roaming the room, appreciating the dark aesthetic, clean black marble with scarce but eye-catching hints of green and silver.

 

“Don’t get too comfortable, you haven’t tried me yet.” Jihoon points out, crossing his arms.

 

“If you wanted me out that badly you would have called the wizard cops on me looong time ago.” He merely grins, running a finger down the spotless marble end table.

 

Jihoon scrunches his nose in confusion, “What’s a cop?”

 

"Your lack of knowledge for the muggle world is probably your biggest flaw." Woojin notes, with a berating finger.

 

"Why would I need to have knowledge on the muggle world anyways?" Jihoon glowers at him, "And you could only talk to me that way if you were above me which you're not." Woojin opens his mouth to speak but Jihoon cuts him off not even half a second later, "Don't finish that sentence."

 

Woojin blinks thrice, face contorting. "I didn't even _start_ it."

 

"Well, in my head you did so don't."

 

He feels his lips pulling up into a smirk, "Oh, I'm in your head now, huh?"

 

The older scoffs, moving to sit at the edge of his bed. "Don't be delusional."

 

"Nu-uh, I don't believe you." Woojin follows him, pointing an accusing finger. "You've probably been thinking about me ever since you heard about my shagging stories, haven't you?"

 

Jihoon's mouth drops open, fully astonished. "Oh, and _I'm_ the arrogant one?"

 

"You're not denying it." He says teasingly, full on grinning when a flush creeps up onto Jihoon's face.

 

"That's it, out." Jihoon gets up from his bed, arms reaching out to grab him by the shoulders, turning him towards the door and pushing him out. Woojin doesn't fight it, too busy laughing. "There's a reason why you're not allowed to step in here."

 

"Because the temptation is too strong?" He questions between laughter, unable to be upset when Jihoon all but slams the door in his face. "Don't worry, I'll keep your desire a secret!" He only laughs harder when he hears an angry bang at the door.

 

The next time he’s at Jihoon’s door is just after they’d gotten back to the dorms after the large Christmas feast, Jihoon is already sporting his signature glare as he swings the door open violently. The glare only lasts for a second though, as his eyes trail down to the two mugs that Woojin is holding. He’s a lot more subdued today, giving him a small, innocent smile and lifting one cup invitingly. “Want some hot chocolate and company?”

 

Jihoon’s lips part in surprise, a somewhat enticing glimmer in his eyes. Woojin feels his heart swell at the slight tugging at the corners of the brunette’s lips. Jihoon’s eyes flicker up to the ceiling, his mouth twisting contemplatively. “Fine, I guess I could lend you _some_ of my time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

magnetic — ii.

 

 

“So what’re you doing here anyways, Rudolph?” Jihoon gives Woojin another once over; he had walked into the common room with his reindeer onesie today, topped with an actual red ball sitting on the tip of his nose. Over the past week they had formed a routine of sorts, of _many_ —this one involving hot chocolate during their research sessions. He watches in amusement as Woojin tries to drink his hot chocolate with the nose on, but when it almost falls into his cup he shrieks and pulls it off immediately, tossing it all the way towards the portrait. “ _Thank you_ , you looked ridiculous in that.”

 

Woojin rolls his eyes, finally sipping on his drink. Except he burns his tongue because it’s still  _hot_  and Jihoon wonders how he manages to be _this_ dumb sometimes. “Ow, fuck!” He curses, sticking his tongue out and running to the bathroom, presumably to relieve the pain with water. When he sits back down after partly relieving the pain (and after watching Jihoon trying desperately to hold back a laugh), he’s forgotten the question. “What were you saying?” 

 

“Why are you staying here for the holidays?” Jihoon questions him with genuine curiosity. “I thought you’d be the first to go.”

 

“My parents went back to Korea for Christmas, I figured I could just stay here instead.” Woojin explains, dropping onto his couch. “Besides, you were staying too.”

 

Jihoon lifts a brow at that, “You’re staying because I’m staying?”

 

“ _No_.” Woojin rolls his eyes, and Jihoon chooses to ignore the way the tips of his ears heat up, “I’m staying so we can study up on the soulbond.”

 

“Then maybe you should actually pick up a book sometime today, genius.” Jihoon says with a lilt in voice, quietly snickering when the younger rolls his eyes at him.

 

“Alright, _alright_ , no need to hassle me, I was _going_ to.” Woojin gestures for him to tone down his nagging, whispering _Accio_ and waiting for the book to come to him.

 

Reading was always a rather quiet affair with them, only after they’ve exchanged their routinely banter, of course. Jihoon’s eyes scan through the secret pages of the book, with a fascination that never really went away whenever he’d read about the material pertaining to their soulbond and combined magic.

 

“We never got to practice for real, you know?” Woojin breaks the silence. When he looks up he meets eyes with Jihoon, whose lip curls into a subtle sneer.

 

“That’s cause you were too busy playing around.” The older hisses, slamming his book closed. He places the book carefully next to him, then leans onto his thighs, a suspicious look on his face as he picks his wand up from the table. Woojin’s eyes widen, fumbling to reach for his own wand but Jihoon beats him to it. “ _Levicorpus_.”

 

The blonde’s feet lift off from the ground, as Jihoon raises him up higher and higher into the air. “ _Jihoon_.” Woojin growls, arms flailing as he floats in the air with Jihoon being thoroughly entertained at the sight. But when Woojin finally finds his balance he disarms him, sending his wand flying out of his wand and into the wall. This does, fortunately, terminate the levitating spell and Woojin falls onto his butt on the couch with a loud thud. “We’re supposed to be practicing _together_ , not against each other.” Woojin grumbles as he rubs his tailbone with a strained groan.

 

“Well, now you know how it feels.” Jihoon answers pettily, satisfied with himself. He stands up to retrieve his wand, a lifted mood for a short period of time until he turns back around and falls over immediately after the words _Locomotor Wibbly_ register in his ears. Not only does he fall over, he falls over _on top_ of Woojin, who, for some completely absurd reason, decided to stand behind him as he’d casted the curse. The two of them stumble over and Jihoon feels Woojin’s arms wrap around him as they hit the ground. Woojin grunts when his back hits the rug, and Jihoon hisses as he feels a pain in his ribs.

 

“You’re as clumsy a walker as you are a wizard.” Woojin voice comes out thinly, his head falling back onto the rug as he exhales.

 

Jihoon scoffs incredulously, “You literally made me lose feeling in my legs!” He accuses hotly, leaning onto his elbow as he glares at the younger

 

Woojin chuckles, strained, “Wow, that’s so romantic.”

 

“I despise you.” Jihoon grits out through his teeth, wanting to roll Woojin up in the rug and ship him back to the Gryffindors.

 

“No you don’t.” Woojin smirks, then sits up with Jihoon still on him. Jihoon holds onto his shoulders to balance himself as the sit up, but he can’t find it in himself to look away when he’s never actually had the chance to see Woojin up close, the yellow light of the room hitting the right spots on his tan skin. He spends an unnecessarily long time survey the entirety of his face, from the intimidating arch of his eyebrows, to the lift of his narrow eyes, and the glow of his skin. But when his eyes reach his lips he sees them pull into a slow grin, getting wider when Jihoon’s eyes make their way back up to Woojin’s own. “See, you can’t let go of me.”

 

Jihoon’s face drops into a scowl, hands pushing the younger back onto the floor with a huff. Woojin yelps, mumbling something along the lines of _playing hard to get_ but Jihoon already has other things in mind. He gives Woojin a mischievous smile, one that he understands disappointingly quickly. He draws out the spell slowly, “Ten..ta..cli..”

 

Woojin _screams_ before he can finish the word, sitting up abruptly and arm flying out to whack Jihoon’s wand out of his hand for the second time. “Not another jinx from your mouth.” The blonde points a finger at him, giving him a dirty look.

 

Jihoon sighs, hands reaching out behind him to prop himself lazily. “We are _never_ gonna get this whole bond thing down.”

 

“Can we just do this tomorrow?” Woojin complains, scratching his head. “My everything hurts from you launching me around like a bludger.”

 

Jihoon tiredly throws his hands in various directions in front of him, gesturing for him to move on. Woojin crawls up onto the couch and lies on his back, repeatedly hitting his stomach with his fist. Jihoon climbs up onto his own couch, pulling him legs up and resting his chin on his knees.

 

“You know what we should do instead?” Woojin starts and it’s almost instinctive for Jihoon to narrow his eyes at the impending suggestion. “Laze around in our common room spilling our secrets.”

 

Jihoon snorts. “You just want dirt on me in case this whole association goes awry.”

 

Woojin puts a hand to his heart, an offended look on his face. “I can’t believe you think I would actually use your secrets against you.”

 

Jihoon clicks his tongue, humming softly. He thinks for a few moments, then lets his cheek lean onto his forearm as he says quietly, “I trust you.” Woojin’s eyes practically fall out of their sockets at the confession, looking torn between voicing his bewilderment, or wondering if he was just hearing things. Jihoon decides to continue instead, “Not substantially, but, at least a smidge. And that’s rare.”

 

“I swear this entire year is a ploy. A very elaborate theater piece with every single person at this school in on it to make fun of my gullibility.” Woojin looks incredibly troubled, and humorously so, that Jihoon has to drop his head into his arms to hide his laugh.

 

Woojin shakes his head of his thoughts, clearing his throat. “So, secrets?”

 

He raises a challenging eyebrow, “What would you even want to know about me?”

 

Woojin thinks for a moment, before jumping up to his feet and inviting himself onto Jihoon’s couch. He slips on the hood of his onesie when he makes himself comfortable, antlers now on full display. To think, Jihoon had almost forgotten he was even wearing the ridiculous get-up. He did, however, oddly manage to pull it off.

 

“I’m a prier.” Woojin says straightforwardly, and Jihoon feigns surprise.

 

“You don’t say?”

 

The blonde nods furiously, “I like to pry. So you have to be ready."

 

Jihoon gestures for him to go on, “Do your worst.”

 

Woojin pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged as he leans his back into the couch. “Did you ever genuinely hate me? During the entirety of our rivalry?”

 

It’s a question he hadn’t actually expected, and it throws him off guard briefly. He opens his mouth to answer but closes it again. He bites down on the insides of his cheeks before trying again, “I think in third year I was angry enough that I did hate you.” Woojin’s mouth presses into a thin line, but he nods wordlessly. “But I think by the end of that year it lessened to strong dislike.”

 

Woojin lets out a sound akin to a scoff, “That makes it slightly less sad, I guess.”

 

Jihoon smirks, fingers focused on tracing the patterns on his blanket. “What about you then?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. “Did you ever genuinely hate me?”

 

Woojin’s mouth lifts into a mysterious smile as he kneads his shoulder. “I couldn’t bring myself to, even when I tried.” There’s never an end to the stupefaction when it comes to Woojin, Jihoon finds. “I wanted to. I convinced myself I did. But when I think back on it,” He shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t. And I don’t.”

 

Jihoon can’t lift his eyes from the same pattern on his blanket that he traces over and over again, unsure of what to do with his hands and no clue where to settle his eyes. “There’s something fishy about that,” He begins lightly, “But I’ll let you get away with it.”

 

“How generous of you.” Woojin quips. Jihoon tilts his head, briefly letting his eyes shut with an sarcastic smile. The silence is much more peaceful than their usual ones. Every other time, Jihoon had felt fidgety, a tension never leaving his bones even after hours of settling into it. But tonight, he finds himself at ease, maybe even finding this whole situation rather pleasant. “This might be stepping out of line,” Woojin starts hesitantly, “But I was thinking that, since you’ve been keeping things in for a long time, you could tell the whole story about that night? I mean, I already know some of the details, and you seem like you need to let some things out.. and I’d be willing to listen so..”

 

Jihoon purses his lips, having at least expected this one. It’s a long time before he speaks up but Woojin waits patiently through it, letting him make his decision. “Solanine was part of the little group that my parents had started.” Woojin watches him intently when he finally speaks up. “I don’t know what their motive was, but it was important enough that it lead to some serious confrontations when loyalty was in question.” It’s a hard story for him to get through, but he continues anyways. “Apparently my parents were threatening to send them to Azkaban. At least, that’s what I heard her spew about when she’d barged into my home and tormented my mother.”

 

The shift always happens with her mention, the one from composure to instability. It’s a scar, a wound that never heals. “Her intrusion was quiet, sudden. I could barely grasp onto the situation. My mother, she was always wary. Solanine was the shadow nipping at her heels even in the dark. Her only weakness in that moment was me. She needed to protect me.” He exhales heavily, closing his eyes and scratching the bridge of his nose. He keeps his head turned away, hating that he looked like this.

 

“It all happened so fast, my father bursting in along with my uncle, enraged. Her husband tried to fight him off but my father disarmed him, throwing him off the veranda in the process. He didn’t fall though, not at that point, anyways. He managed to grab onto the rails before he could hit the ground, but Solanine didn’t see that, her anger had already taken over her before she could see my uncle use the revulsion jinx on him. He fell into some large rocks, bled until it made me sick. But she was too focused on my father; she was mad, _furious_. She left my mother to attack my father, and my father he.. he had no intention to kill her, but I saw it in her eyes, she wanted him _dead_. My mother must have seen it too because she—” He chokes back a sob, eyes growing bleary. Woojin puts a hand on his own to stop him from speaking any further.

 

“You don’t have to finish, I’m sorry I brought it up.” Woojin mutters regrettably, and Jihoon can tell he’s feeling awfully responsible for his breakdown.

 

“God, the amount of times I’ve almost cried in front of someone this year is pathetic.” Jihoon says with a sad laugh. “But I guess it does make me feel a little lighter.”

 

“We can move on.” Woojin insists, “Maybe you can pry into my life now. Ask me anything.”

 

“Okay, since you offered.” Jihoon nods slowly after a few deep breaths, brows furrowing in thought before he decides on a question. “What’s the deal with your personal vendetta against Slytherins?”

 

Woojin sucks in a breath, tilting his head. “It’s.. kind of complicated.”

 

Jihoon lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “We have the time.”

 

“Right.” Woojin blows out his cheeks, drumming idiosyncratically against the pillow in his lap. “Well, when my mother went to Hogwarts, she was tormented and abused a lot, for being a muggleborn.” He starts off, “And often by Slytherins. She’d tell me these stories to warn me, you know, because we weren’t purebloods, and she refused to believe that our generation would treat each other any better. So I grew up with these stories and beliefs, and despite not encountering much trouble myself when it came to Slytherins until our incident in third year, I always thought of it as a legitimate fact, that Slytherins were basically the root of all evil.”

 

Jihoon stays quiet for a while, wrapping and unwrapping the edge of his blanket around his hands. “I’m sorry your mother had to go through that.”

 

“It’s nothing you should be apologizing for.” Woojin states, making it clear he wasn’t placing any sort of blame on him.

 

“I know, I’m still sorry though. She didn’t deserve that.” Jihoon says further. Woojin hunches his shoulders, looking guilty.

 

“It was so long ago. And my mom is the strongest person I know, so even in the face of adversity I know she can handle things, she's okay now.” Woojin explains honestly. “I just wish I didn’t let it drive me to resent your whole house, and all of the hostile things I’ve said to you.”

 

“Well to be fair I did provoke you plenty of times, but yeah, could have done without the hostility.” Woojin sends him a bitter smile. “You know it’s kind of weird that we know all of this personal shit about each other.” Jihoon confesses, to which Woojin agrees. Half a year of reconciliation and half of their lives had already been exposed to each other, even before anyone else. Jihoon figures they’ve always strived to be unconventional anyways.

 

“Okay, let’s start back at the basics then.” The blonde suggests, adjusting his position on the couch so that he’s facing him. “What’s your favorite food?”

 

“Chicken.” Jihoon answers easily, the word rolling off his tongue like a reflex.

 

“Yeah, found that out when you were a lot more than a _little_ enthusiastic during every meal this week.” Woojin teases, dodging the hand Jihoon tries to swing at him. “I don’t think I have a favorite food, I’m not very picky. Uh, what other boring questions are there..”

 

Jihoon lets himself chuckle. It’s weird, to think that usually, he’d be fumbling for something more than aimless small talk, and now, with his life unveiled and all of the substantial details of himself known to Woojin, he’s finding it difficult to revert back to the basics of a friendship.

 

_Friendship?_

 

“Hm, favorite subject?” He decides on a question if only to rip himself away from his busy mind.

 

“Transfiguration, maybe.” Woojin answers, his face scrunched up in thought. “Or Charms, one of those two. Is yours Arithmancy?”

 

“I _really_ despise you.” Jihoon is satisfied when he makes a successful hit to the side of Woojin’s head with a pillow. “But no, I actually really enjoy Potions, before you accuse me of being a lap dog again.”

 

Woojin presses his lips together, looking sheepish. He lifts his arm and lets his elbow rest against the top of the couch, pressing his cheek into his fist. “Whoops. Okay, moving on, uh, favorite color?”

 

Jihoon actually thinks hard on this one, though he doesn't really know why. After a while, he comes up with, “I don’t have one, I guess, if black doesn’t count.” He settles for an uninteresting answer. “And since you’re an extremely predictable Gryffindor yours is probably red, right?”

 

Woojin doesn’t answer right away like Jihoon expects him too. It starts with a gaze that lingers for far too longer than necessary. Brown eyes survey him curiously, maybe even a little mesmerized. Jihoon furrows his brows at how long the younger stays quiet, just _staring_ at him. When he tries to open his mouth to snap him out of whatever stupor he had falling into, Woojin breaks his silence. “Close.” It continues when Woojin keeps his soft gaze on him, for so long that Jihoon starts to feel something dusting his cheeks. Woojin opens his mouth again, speaking gently, “Pink.”

 

Jihoon lets his mouth hang, slightly dazed. He feels himself color more intensely, so he brings up the blanket to cover his face. “Unexpected, I’ll give you that.”

 

“I just decided.” Woojin says faintly, with that look that’s carefully crafted to have him forget the basics of language and speech and Jihoon is _struggling_. First, he’s struggling to look away, because Woojin has somehow bewitched him, is somehow holding him under a spell that refuses to let his eyes leave his. And then he’s struggling to form a coherent sentence, words dying on his lips every time he tries. It ends when the crackling of the fireplace gets loud enough for Jihoon to fall out of his trance, and he’s tearing his eyes away as quickly as he can.

 

“It’s getting late, we should uh, turn in for the night.” He says through his embarrassment, clearing his throat.

 

Woojin gives him a small smile, before finally looking away and allowing Jihoon to make up for the air he’d lost. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Something charges his skin, makes it jump and tingle in multiple places at a time. He waits. He waits for it to burn him out, to dwindle sooner or later because it's a reaction at the entirely wrong time without so much as an explanation. Everything clings onto him, after years of losing, all of a sudden everything stays. 

 

 

But Jihoon doesn't know how to keep things. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ☾ 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're moving along, but i'm slowly feeling the weight of the next few chapters yikes
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	6. Chapter 6

 

enchantment (noun).  
**\ in-ˈchant-mənt  \**  
a feeling of great pleasure; **delight**. the state of being under a  **spell** ; magic.

 

 

* * *

 

   

 

enchantment — i.

 

 

_by a million flowers, of pinks and blues_

_encircled, illuminated in colors of you_

 

 

 

 

“How can you block me out of your mindscape?” Woojin pesters the brunette on their way to the Astronomy Tower. The two of them were set on being as productive as they could in mastering their combined magic, but Woojin had suggested that practicing controlling their mindscapes was just as important. Jihoon, however, refused to let him into his mind. Every time Woojin tried to enter their soulscape and push himself in, to knock down another one of Jihoon's barriers, he'd get nudged away.

 

"You're blocking me out of yours, what's the difference?" Jihoon remarks, keeping his steady pace that always has Woojin lagging behind.

 

"I'm only blocking you out because _you're_ blocking _me_ out." Woojin counters, tugging at the older's robe. "This bond is more than just having greater power. We have to know how to tap into our both mental and magical reserves in order to support each other and I can't do that if you're shutting me out."

 

Jihoon huffs, coming to a halt as he whips his body around to face him. " _Fine_." He concedes begrudgingly, "We can practice that up in the tower too. But I'm not letting you to visit after that."

 

After climbing the stairs and making sure the tower was empty, Woojin slips his wand out of his robe, spinning in between his fingers. But when he turns around to find Jihoon, the older is crouching down onto the floor near the wall, sitting himself with his back against the brick.

 

Woojin chuckles as he walks up to the brunette, “Man, you’re really out of shape.”

 

“Well sorry I’m not a quidditch champ like you.” Jihoon huffs, sprawling his legs out.

 

“If you’re gonna be lazy then let’s try for the mindscape first.” He suggests, sitting himself across from the older.

 

“How do we even start?” Jihoon questions, already sounding exhausted and they hadn’t even done anything yet. “My mind is so chaotic I can’t even hear my own thoughts.”

 

“You can do it, I’ll help.” Woojin scoots closer, nudging for Jihoon to sit cross legged as well. "Just relax. Think of me, and _not_ about wanting to kill me." Jihoon scoffs, but allows his body to loosen up, letting the tension rise from his bones. "Good, keep relaxing." Woojin encourages, "Do you trust me?"

 

Jihoon swallows, letting his back hit the wall, eyes fluttering closed. "Yeah."

 

Woojin nods, voice filled with reassurance. "Then let me in." He closes his eyes as well, plunging into their soulscape. It's an odd kind of state, where he feels like he exists in his full form, but in his place is only the faint red string of light dancing around in front of him. Woojin thinks it's probably his magic. Just a few steps away from him there's a similar green light, swirling in circles around itself. He approaches the light slowly, watching as it backs away a little more with each step he takes.

 

 _Trust me,_ he thinks, focusing hard. And then the light bursts into pieces, blinding him momentarily as each little fragment of light spirals down into a floating ball of mass, shimmering brightly. _Can you hear me?_ He waits with bated breath, listens hard for an answer.

 

_I can hear you._

 

Woojin feels relief surge through him, and then an excitement that bubbles, filled with intrigue and fascination. _See? This isn't so bad._

 

 _A little lacklustre though_. Jihoon adds jokingly. _Was expecting more than just a light blue world of nothingness._

 

 _This is our first time diving into this place_. Woojin reminds him. _This is probably like the tutorial stage, or something._ He feels Jihoon's laughter more than he hears it, the amusement overtaking his body. Maybe emotions were meant to feel more overwhelming in the soulscape. _This is our inner world, you know, it'll take the form of whatever we want it to be._

The amusement simmers down into something of pondering. _What do you see?_

 

 _I see a forest._ Woojin muses _. Large tall trees, grassy, colorful. Toadstools surrounding a small, shallow body of water, lily pads floating gently on the surface._

 

 _Wisteria trees_. Jihoon continues, in full agreement with Woojin’s choices, much to his surprise. _And dozens of other types of flowers, purple twinkling lights descending from the sky._

 

And then Woojin feels a breeze, a familiar wind circling around his ankles. Soon he's being lifted again, the wind taking him in circles as a bright white light takes over the world around him. He spins, and spins and spins until finally he feels it slowing, gradually descending back down. Land slithers out beneath him as the light vanishes suddenly, and around him he sees shades of pink, green, purple, and yellow—wisterias hanging above him, reds in the toadstools and the entire place enshrouded in a faint yellow glow. When he turns around and sees the blue water he also finds a brunette who looks just as mesmerized as he is. Jihoon's eyes finally land on him as well, eyes widening at the sight of him. "Is this our soulscape?"

 

Woojin finds himself ushering out a slow laugh. "I guess it is."

 

His eyes return back to the brunette, who takes slow steps as he surveys the area, head titled up at the tall wisteria trees, big brown eyes sparkling with wonder and awe. He bares his teeth in a smile, one that grows bigger when he sees the glowing purple orbs fall slowly from the sky and disappear as they touch the grass. His breath gets caught in his throat when Jihoon makes his way to him, that unthinkably radiant smile still on his face. "This is amazing."

 

Woojin's mind constantly switches from purple lights to twinkling eyes as he swallows down the lump in his throat, nearly losing his balance when he can't decide which glow to settle on. "Y-yeah."

 

They roam for a while longer, Woojin going to kneel next to the small body of water. On a lily pad floating towards him is a crested toad, croaking as it gets closer. He turns to call Jihoon over, until he sees the brunette start to blur around the edges, colors bleeding, and then he's fading away into the air. Woojin shifts out of their world and is brought back to reality shortly after, coming face to face with Donghan, who's looking at the two of them, and their odd arrangement on the floor, very suspiciously.

 

"So, did you guys just decide to nap up here?" Donghan questions sarcastically, “Together?”

 

The both of them scramble up to their feet, dusting off their clothes and making an unnecessary show of clearing their throats. "We're just, um, tired." Woojin answers pathetically, earning a glare from Jihoon.

 

Donghan lifts a curious brow, "From?"

 

"Dueling!" Jihoon jumps in, and Woojin's eyes widen at that. "Yeah we were just practicing our skills."

 

"Oh." Donghan smirks, amused. "Well I'd love to see this." The two of them exchange uneasy glances, and then look towards Donghan, who gestures for them to proceed.

 

Woojin gets into stance across from Jihoon, wand ready at his side and watching for Jihoon's moves. Jihoon attacks first, attempting _Colloshoo_ but Woojin is quick on his feet with the shield charm, throwing back _Steleus_ but Jihoon manages to dodge it as well.

 

"Hey, it's no fun to watch when you keep blocking every attack." Donghan protests.

 

Woojin turns towards him, "Well why would we—"

 

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because Jihoon casts _Rictumsepra_ as he's distracted, and Woojin feels a tickling sensation that starts in his stomach, then works it ways towards other parts of his body and has him falling to the ground, doubling over in laughter. He briefly sees Donghan's amusement before he can take in enough air to counter the hex. When it's over, his limbs fall flat onto the ground, throwing himself into a starfish position as he catches his breath, chest rising and falling. He sits up and whips his head towards Jihoon, who merely shrugs, a satisfied look on his face. But apparently he's still quick enough to catch the look in Woojin's eyes, as his wand is back up at the ready just as Woojin raises his own.

 

" _Expelliarmus_!" They shout at the same time, the lights in their wand shooting towards the middle, combining once again when they reach each other. Woojin's eyes widen when he sees the glowing gold mass in front of them once more. " _Why do we keep doing that?!"_ He whisper-yells, sending Jihoon wary looks.

 

"What.. the fuck is _that_." They both turn towards the voice, momentarily forgetting the presence of another person in the room. Then their heads snap towards each other, panic on both of their faces.

 

"I have no bloody clue." Jihoon lies, feigning confusion. Woojin continues to whisper ' _don't explode, don't explode_ ' under his breath, trying to figure out a way out of this predicament. Donghan steps closer curiously, but Jihoon shoos him away with his hand.

 

 _How do we stop this thing from exploding?_ Woojin attempts to reach Jihoon.

 

Jihoon looks up at him. _Focus. Maybe we can lessen the effect if we try to calm its energy._

 

_It's quadrupled energy how is it gonna calm down?!_

 

"Uh, hello? Does _anyone_ else see this thing?" Donghan asks exasperatedly, the only voice speaking up.

 

Woojin lets out a frustrated groan. He closes his eyes, getting rid of everything else in his mind. _Okay, let's try._ A moment later, he feels a brief surge of energy through him. When he focuses harder, he's in that light blue empty area again, the gold glowing mass floating in front of him. _Can you see it in your head too?_

 

_Yeah, let's try to move it? Maybe we can send it out of the tower._

 

Woojin feels it pulsing, watches it shimmer as he looks at it intensely in the blue space. He puts all of his effort into moving it towards the side, then sees as it slowly nudges itself over to where they want it to go. It moves and moves until Donghan's voice interrupts them again and Woojin watches as the glowing mass flings itself in the opposite direction. Woojin opens his eyes abruptly, but it's too late to stop the magic as it heads towards Donghan, vigorously throwing him back into the wall behind him.

 

Jihoon rushes towards him immediately, and Woojin follows behind, kneeling onto the ground and helping the brunette sit his friend up. "Why did you send it towards him?!" Jihoon shrieks, holding the other Slytherin's head and searching for any damage.

 

"You helped!" Woojin says hoarsely, breathing a sigh of relief when he hears Donghan groan, his hand coming up to hold his head.

 

"What the bloody hell just happened?" He wheezes out, his lungs clearly affected by the force.

 

Woojin glances back and forth between Donghan and Jihoon. "Uhh, you... you were hallucinating!" He settles for a lie, knowing full well he was terrible at them. "You knocked out because Jihoon accidentally threw you into the wall while we were dueling and nothing else happened."

 

Jihoon and Donghan share a look, before Donghan lets a sound past his lips, one that Woojin thinks is meant to be a scoff but he's still recovering from the impact. "You really thought the hit made me lose my memory?"

 

Woojin chuckles awkwardly, muttering under his breath, "Was hoping on it, yeah." The three of them sit in silence for a while, neither Woojin nor Jihoon having an inkling of what to do or say.

 

"What was that light?" Donghan speaks up when his voice has come back, though he still coughs roughly after the words come out.

 

"We don't know either." Jihoon responds quickly. "Maybe we should head back to our dorms for now, it's nearing curfew."

 

Thankfully, Donghan decides relieving his pain is much more important than questioning the two of them for now, so he lets Jihoon hoist him up and wrap his arm around his shoulder, taking him downstairs. Woojin follows behind, feeling sorry that their spell had hit him, especially with the power it had. He and Jihoon had experienced the extent of its strength as well, and it was nothing to take lightly. 

 

"I'll take him to the dungeons before I go back, you can head back already." Jihoon tells him, grimacing as he adjusts Donghan's weight against his side. Woojin wants to offer to help, but he knows how stubborn Jihoon is, and the longer he tries to argue, the longer Donghan would be standing there in pain.

 

Woojin motions for them to leave, "Alright, be careful."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

His fretful pacing comes to a halt when he hears the portrait open and sees Jihoon walk in. "Is he okay? Did he say anything else about the magic?"

 

"He's okay." Jihoon answers, making his way towards the couches. "And he was too tired to ask anything else. But he's a smart guy, he's definitely suspicious and he's going to catch on sooner or later."

 

"Is it such a bad thing if he were to know?" Woojin entertains the idea, maybe it would save them both the effort.

 

Jihoon hums thoughtfully, "Not bad, necessarily. I just think it would be weird to tell him about our connection."

 

"Why?" Woojin briefly contemplates his next question, "Do you like him?"

 

Jihoon lifts his head to look at him, eyebrows raised. "What? No, it's nothing like that. It's just—” He pauses for a moment, “Imagine going up to your friends, after they’ve seen us hanging around each other being civil for a while, and telling them that we’re soulbonded.”

 

Woojin considers this, facing screwing up in the process. If anything, it sounded like a pathetic excuse to explain the sudden change in their feelings towards each other. “Okay, yeah, I guess that’s pretty weird.” Woojin taps the sides of his feet together, feeling rather awkward. “I was just thinking that, if it ever came to it, he’d be a trustworthy person to tell. I mean, right now he might suspect that whatever is happening could be dangerous and he could try to let someone know about it. But if he knew, and we told him that we wanted to keep it to ourselves for now, he’d probably comply.”

 

Awe transforms the older’s face, rendering him of words for a moment. “You’re taking very big strides in your trust in Slytherins these days.”

 

Woojin shrugs, a little flustered. “Now that I can look at him with a clear mind, I think he’s a good person. So I’m just saying,” He looks up at Jihoon through his eyelashes, “if you ever decide to tell him when I’m not there, I wouldn’t be mad.” 

 

The corners of Jihoon’s lips tug up, and he nods slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Woojin also nods stiffly, before clapping his hands together. “So, should we try and finally get this combined magic thing figured out?”

 

Jihoon rises from his seat, “It’s long overdue.”

 

The two of them set up their target (a stuffed dummy that Woojin just happened to have for spell practicing purposes) a foot or two in front of an empty wall, after taking down the portraits hung across it to prevent any further frame casualties.

 

“Okay, let’s try a simple knockback jinx.” Woojin suggests, as the two of them stand side by side across the dummy. “On the count of three, okay? One. Two. Three!”

 

They cast _Flipendo_ at the same time, watching as the blue light reaches the tip of their wand and then shoots out towards the dummy, the lights coming together to form a bigger ball of magic, instantly sending the prop flying against the wall. Jihoon gapes slightly, “It worked. They merged together and it didn’t stop and explode on us.”

 

“Probably since we worked together and sent the spell towards the same target instead of each other.” Woojin hypothesizes, walking up to the dummy and putting it back in its place.

 

“We’re not gonna countdown like that every time right? That’s kind of inconvenient in a real fight.” Jihoon states when Woojin makes his way back to his side.

 

“I know. We’ll have to work on the strength of our mental reserves. But for now we’re gonna have to practice like this.” He concludes with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do soulmates hold so much novelty value? This shit is hard work.”

 

“You really just do not stop with that word, do you?” Jihoon crosses his arms, sending him a sideways glare, but quickly flickering his eyes away when Woojin turns to challenge his irritation.

 

“Why?” Woojin asks with a saccharine sweet voice, leaning over until his face is right next to Jihoon’s, provoking him. “Does it make your heart flutter?”

 

Jihoon scoffs loudly, turning back to meet his eyes. “You’re delusional, Red.”

 

Woojin’s mouth curves into a slow smirk, “Red? You mean like the color of your cheeks right now?” He lifts a hand to run the back of his index finger gently down Jihoon’s cheek. He hears the small hitch in the older’s breath, before he catches himself and whacks his arm away.

 

“I hope you know you’re walking on thin ice right now.” Jihoon steps closer, causing Woojin to stand up straight, backing up slightly. “So unless you want me to dangle you from the long hand of the Clock Tower then I suggest you take a step back.” He bites out with a smile that’s anything but sweet, wand pushing up against his chest.

 

“ _Yeesh_. Feisty.” Woojin mumbles, pushing away Jihoon’s wand with his finger. “If you want to be in denial, fine. But when you realize you’ve fallen for me don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” Jihoon looks at him incredulously, before bursting into laughter. Woojin can’t help but join him, enjoying the unfamiliarity of the warm sound.

 

After they’ve gathered themselves, they get back to practicing. “We can try Oppungo next?”

 

Jihoon narrows his eyes at him, and then his eyes scan the room warily. “What in here are you planning to break?”

 

Woojin tilts his head, taking in a sharp breath. “Well, we could look through some of your belong—” He tapers off when he sees Jihoon walking towards him with a deadly expression. He looks around the room, eyes landing on their little Christmas tree in the corner, “The orna—” Another glare. “Nevermind, guess not. We could try the disarming charm again? On a heavier object, like one of my robot toys or something.”

 

Jihoon nods, much more satisfied with the suggestion. “Okay. But let’s try counting in our minds, yeah?”

 

Woojin sucks in a cheek, biting down. “Alright, we can try.” He wanders back into his room, finding one of his toy robots on his desk and taking it out into the common room, setting it where the dummy used to be.

 

Jihoon snickers when he comes back but says nothing. Woojin rolls his eyes, nudging him with his elbow. He relaxes his mind, finding his focus again. _Ready? One. Two. Three._

 

They draw the spell together, and the red shoots out and comes together in that familiar gold mass, only this time it explodes against the robot, throwing it with great force into the wall and smashing it into pieces that fall to the floor. Woojin winces slightly, “Ouch, that’s what we did to Donghan.”

 

Jihoon steps back too, leaning away from the mess. “Remind me to treat him on the next Hogsmeade trip.”

 

“At least we made it work this time.” He says, stifling a yawn, but Jihoon sees in anyways.

 

“We’re both getting tired, let’s just turn in early and continue in the morning.” Jihoon suggests, helping Woojin pick up the remains of the toy robot.

 

They end it there for the night, both parting ways in the hallways and into their separate bedrooms. Woojin finds it hard to fall asleep tonight, getting stuck on the vivid memory of their inner world, and wonders how easily they had managed to settle on the same setting, and even more, how much Jihoon seemed to love the flowers. It was the first time he’d see the older so happy, so peaceful and content. Like for a moment, in the middle of those overhanging wisterias and floating orbs, he could forget about all of the trivial things and just be Jihoon.

 

It’s not until later on that night, just when he feels like he's about to fall asleep, that Woojin starts to feel a heaviness on his chest. He sits up, clutching at the spot of his chest that the dread and horror fill up the most. It persists for a while, so Woojin slips out of bed and wanders across the hall, slowly pushing open the door opposite of his room. He can see from the faint light of the moon casting down into the room that Jihoon’s restless. His eyes are shut, gasping and writhing. And then his eyes shoot open, taking a large inhale and keeping with the heavy breathing after he comes back to consciousness. Woojin waits another minute before he knocks on the door gently. Jihoon sits up, all sweating and crumpling into himself.

 

“Hey, can I join?” Woojin asks softly, taking a cautious step into the room but his hands are still on the door.

 

Jihoon is confused for a second, then starts to laugh quietly in spite of himself. “Why, you scared?”

 

“No, I felt your fear.” He answers faintly, shocking Jihoon into silence. Woojin feels his hands fidget nervously, until he watches the older nod slowly. He steps fully into the room, closing the door behind him and moving to slip under the covers of Jihoon’s bed. He still makes sure to keep a respectful distance from him, turning to face away from the other boy. Only a minute later does he finally feel Jihoon fall back onto his pillows, shuffling until he’s comfortable again. The panic that he had been feeling before fades away, into something more relaxed, something more pleasant and tender.

 

That’s how Woojin learns to relax himself, letting the tension leave his body. He eventually starts to feel slumber overtaking him, but not without hearing a soft, immeasurably fond voice in his mind just before he slips into unconsciousness.

 

 

 _Thank you_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

enchantment — ii.

 

 

Fear. That particular feeling would never quite leave his mind, no matter how much he tried to keep himself busy. In all of its intangibility it still sat on his shoulders, seeping into his skin and clinging to his bones. It was a static that followed him everywhere, noisy, invasive, and uncomfortable. But last night it had gone suddenly, and in place of its absence was a song, a soothing melody that somehow managed to bleed colors and shine light. That eerie white noise had turned into a comforting lullaby, a moment to breathe.

 

He wakes to the light shining in through the window, blinking through vision that circles from blurry to clear. The events of last night come rushing into his mind. He’d been plagued with constant nightmares, but last night’s was especially hard to sleep through. He’d woken up in cold sweat, drenched in fear. He’d noticed a figure at the door, unable to see his concern but hearing it in his voice. And then he was asleep again.

 

Jihoon’s eyes land on him when his vision clears fully. There lying next to him, the song.

 

Woojin seems to feel his eyes on him, because he follows him shortly back to consciousness, one eye cracking open. Jihoon can practically see the sequence of events unfolding through the younger’s mind as he tries to remember why he’s there. Jihoon expects him to freak out, to make a big show out of being there in spite of all the younger’s previous joking advances. But Woojin doesn’t even so much as flinch at the sight of him, and this only works to put Jihoon on pins and needles.

 

“This is kinda weird.” Jihoon pushes his voice past the lethargy, placing his hands just near his face.

 

“Yeah.” Woojin agrees, though neither of them make any move to get up. Jihoon can hear Woojin’s breathing, the erratic beating of his heart, can feel it reverberating through the mattress and falling into rhythm with his own. When he looks harder he sees the way the light shining in from the window behind him casts the brown in Woojin’s eyes in a lighter, hazel glow. Jihoon had only ever seen them when they were narrowing at him, glaring him down. But now as he’s looking at him, _really_ looking at him, he notes that they’re pretty, definitely worth getting lost in. They stay like this for a while, until Woojin’s eyes drift down from his face to his hands, prompting him to grab onto them. “Dude, what happened to your hand?” Woojin takes Jihoon’s hand in his, examining the red crescents coloring the boy’s skin.

 

“Oh.” Jihoon pulls his hand away as he sits up, hiding them in his lap. “It’s kind of a habit I have when I’m mad or nervous. I guess I got a little too aggressive with it yesterday.”

 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Woojin questions worriedly, frowning as he sits up as well. “You should stop doing it.”

 

Jihoon shrugs, bringing his legs together to sit cross-legged. “I don’t know how.”

 

Woojin’s brows knit together pensively, so hard that Jihoon snorts at how distressed he looks. After a few moments, he claps his hands resolutely. “Okay, I got it!” Jihoon looks at him expectantly, “I’ll just hold your hand so you can’t do it anymore.”

 

The brunette’s face drops into a scowl, “That’s rubbish. You can’t hold both of my hands all the time.”

 

Woojin just holds his arms up, lifting his shoulders. “Watch me.” Then he reaches out and grabs both of Jihoon’s hands again. “There, problem solved.”

 

Jihoon lets out a chuckle, slipping a hand out of Woojin’s grasp and hitting him in the knee, “You’re an idiot.” His other hand is still resting in Woojin’s light hold, tingling with his touch. “You know, Daehwi and Jinyoung are back early today, and it’s the last day of the break. I might have some ideas for tonight.”

 

Woojin narrows his eyes at him, suspiciously. “What kind of ideas?”

 

His mouth quirks up, feeling proud. “The firewhiskey kind.”

 

Woojin gapes, “You snuck in firewhiskey?”

 

“Hey, I’m legally able to buy it.” He defends himself, then throws the covers off of him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up. “Don’t try to run away later, yeah?”

 

Woojin glares at his provoking tone. “I’m no coward.”

 

Jihoon smirks, “Good.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

Jihoon feels a hair-raising electricity in the air when his friends are all seated in the Head common room, discussing their holidays over some salt-water taffy and firewhiskey. Woojin had reminded him that if they were to get caught, it would be on him, but Jihoon doesn't fret about it, telling him to relax and enjoy the night. They spend the night just talking and having fun, relishing in the last few moments of their break before school starts back up again in the morning.

 

An unexpected bond forms between Woojin and Daehwi. Jihoon doesn’t see it coming, because the two of them are so _different_. But they still manage to get along, ganging up on him and Jinyoung for most of the night. Somehow, he’d been pushed out of his spot on the couch beside Woojin, to the other side next to Jinyoung as Daehwi shooed him away to conspire with Woojin.

 

“I don’t like this alliance.” Jihoon says stubbornly, arms crossed and pointing at the two boys across from him.

 

Woojin snorts at him, taking another sip of his firewhiskey. “Why, jealous?”

 

“In your dreams.” Jihoon hisses, feeling a little lightheaded from the alcohol. He’d never had great alcohol tolerance, but he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to let loose and have a good time. Though he does feel something of regret when he’s almost at the point of being unable to filter his words.

 

“Don’t try to divert attention, Jihoon. It’s your turn, and you pick truth.” Daehwi says for him.

 

Jihoon opens his mouth to protest, “I didn’t even pick.”

 

“Well, I picked for you so answer.” Daehwi stands firm, head bopping as he giggles. “Tell us the truth, Hoonie. Do you think Woojin is attractive?”

 

Jihoon’s hand freezes midway sip, just narrowly avoiding the likelihood of choking on the liquid. “What kind of lame question is that?”

 

“I don't know, why don’t you answer it?” Daehwi eggs him on. Woojin looks puzzled by the sudden shift in atmosphere, but Jihoon watches him lean in curiously.

 

“Yeah, stop stalling.” Jinyoung chimes in, much to Jihoon’s dismay. He sends a glare at his friend, feeling betrayed. They were supposed to be on the same side, but Jinyoung had all but fed him to the sharks.

 

He lets a sigh past his lips, swirling his drink in his cup. “Okay fine. Objectively, yes, I do.” He says with a confidence that tapers off near the end, scrunching into himself when silence follows his answer for a beat or two, Jihoon never managing to relax into it.

 

“Told you I make his heart flutter.” Woojin says to dispel the heavy air, hitting Daehwi on the shoulder with his joke. Daehwi smirks, then puts his drink down, opening his arms and motioning towards him.

 

“Alright, my turn, someone hit me with a dare, this is getting boring.” Daehwi says boldly, and Jihoon wants to take the opportunity to get back at him, but Jinyoung cuts him off. He points to Woojin, body slumping weirdly with his tipsiness.

 

“Kiss him.”

 

Daehwi lifts a brow, “What?”

 

“What?” Jihoon follows, eyes widening. Obviously, Jinyoung is a little off his trolley at this point of the night and not in the right mind to be giving out dares. But Jihoon doesn’t know how to jump in without bringing unwanted attention to himself so he just sits there helplessly, watching the mess unfold in front of him.

 

Jinyoung’s mouth forms a lop-sided grin, eyes half open as he leans forward onto his knees, provokingly. “Kiss the Gryffindor, _coward_.” He then proceeds to make chicken noises, accompanied with the arm movements. 

 

Daehwi’s brows snap together at the weird request (and even weirder sounds) from his boyfriend, “Alright, _alright_! But you told me to.” The younger casually presses his lips to Woojin’s cheek for half a second, but that half second feels like minutes as Jihoon watches it happen.

 

When he pulls away, Jinyoung makes an obnoxious noise. “Why did you kiss him?” He whines, head falling into his hands.

 

“You gave me the dare!” Daehwi answers defensively, pulling back with his hands held against his chest.

 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Jinyoung laments, pouting. “Don’t let me drink alcohol ever again.”

 

“Alright, I think we should go before you start to cry.” Daehwi decides, getting up from his seat and pulling up the whining Jinyoung by the waist, Jinyoung slinging an arm over his shoulder and pressing his practically-dead weight onto Daehwi. “See you in class tomorrow! Sorry for this one, and thanks for the invite.” Daehwi waves them off, lugging his drunk boyfriend out of their dorm.

 

Jihoon is still frowning when they leave, stuck in his mind. “Why do you look so upset?” Woojin asks when he sees his , amused. He huffs, abruptly standing up and turning sharply towards his room, feeling dizzy and wanting to lie down. “Whoa, slow down, champ. You’re gonna fall over.”

 

Woojin rushes over to try and help him, but Jihoon swats his hands away before he can try, then proceeds to stumble back to his room. Woojin still follows behind him, and Jihoon turns to him just as they reach his bedroom door. “Don’t talk to me, I’m upset with you.” He frowns harder, eyes half-lidded.

 

“What did I do?” Woojin questions, reaching out to keep him balanced.

 

His head feels heavy and he lets it hang to his side, lifting up his arm to point an accusing finger at Woojin. “You hate me.”

 

Woojin’s eyebrows raise, stumped. “I don’t hate you.”

 

“You were so mean to me all these years.” He continues to complain, voice rising in anger. He’s unsure of why he’d decided to pick a fight but he can’t stop what comes out of his mouth.

 

“Hey, you were equally as mean to me.” Woojin defends himself, sounding upset as well.

 

“Well you were equally as meanerest to me!”

 

“That’s not even a _word_!” Woojin raises his voice, the strength of it bringing him forward. 

 

Jihoon steps closer, until Woojin is just centimeters away, the smell of firewhiskey swirling through the air between them. Woojin isn’t much taller than him, but the difference is enough that Jihoon has to tilt his head up slightly to look at him through his eyelashes. He searches the younger's eyes, dazed and dejected, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. Their noses are almost touching, and Jihoon can’t tell if it’s the alcohol that’s making him hallucinate the frequent flickering down of Woojin’s eyes or how he leans in closer. His voice comes out as a whisper, a small whimper. “You never even gave me a _chance_.”

 

Lips crash down abruptly on his, like he’d been gripping at china until it finally snapped. He gasps at the sudden action, and in the process, deepens the kiss. His eyes shut closed instinctively, hands coming up to pull Woojin closer by the neck, flush against him. He feels his back hit the door, his head spinning, the sensation almost lifting him off his feet. It’s not feather-light in the slightest. It’s heated and needy, body reacting, skin burning under Woojin’s light touches and lips bruising from his rough kisses. Woojin traces circles against his hip, pressing him further back into the door.

 

There’s something that burns inside him with the kiss, a spark, only greater than anything he’s ever felt before. Like the feeling of being whole, like everything in this moment is right. The connection holds him spellbound, their souls feeling truly and veritably interlinked.

 

Before it can go any further, Woojin is pulling away swiftly, shock on his face when Jihoon flutters his eyes open to look at him. Woojin’s hands are still midair, frozen in place. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers, taking slow steps back, suddenly distant.

 

In Jihoon’s hazy vision, through the unlit hallway bridging their rooms, he watches Woojin disappear into the dark.

 

 

 

 

 

☾

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> screams 
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	7. Chapter 7

 

destruction (noun).  
**\ de·struc·tion | \di-ˈstrək-shən \**  
the state or fact of being  **destroyed** **:** ruin

 

 

* * *

 

   

 

destruction — i.

 

_you can run from everyone who tries to hurt you_

_but you can’t save yourself from your own mind_

 

 

 

Woojin has never been particularly afraid of anything; he’s always felt that if there was someone meant to take a risk, when everyone else stepped back, it would be him. But last night, in all honesty, scared him. He’s always so caught up in the moment, always taking things as they go and making decisions on the spot. And he always knows how to jump back from these choices, knows how to move on from them and leave them behind as things of the past with a light heart.

 

But _this_ , he doesn’t know where to go from this.

 

Jihoon had left before Woojin had even woken up, and Woojin knew that it would be the start of awkward glances from a distance and stumbling around each other, pretending that nothing ever happened. Because this is something that neither of them are emotionally ready to confront, and so the best thing to do is avoid it.

 

In the end they don’t get very far. Donghan seems to know everything before they do, and takes matters into his own hands when no one wants to budge. That’s why Woojin is not in any way ready when Donghan throws an arm over his shoulder, already dragging an uncooperative Jihoon under his other arm. “Hey losers, let’s go eat lunch!”

 

Woojin, in the midst of all the confusion, finds himself seated at the Slytherin table once again, saved only by the decision Donghan makes to sit in between the two of them. At least, for a moment he thinks he’s relieved, a moment that ends when he has to watch Donghan feed Jihoon, who is resistant to all of his attempts. “I need to fill you up.” Donghan says, face extremely close to Jihoon’s, continuously poking at his cheek. “I want those cheeks back.”

 

Jihoon, for the first time that day, manages a small grin. But it makes Woojin feel uneasy more than it calms him down. He’s seen plenty of greens before, in potions, in Jihoon’s room, and in the ties all around him at this table right now. But this is a different green entirely, not visible to the eyes yet somehow the only thing clouding his vision right now.

 

This green is _jealousy_.

 

He jabs his fork into his food, the sooner he finishes eating the sooner he can leave and pretend like he isn’t pathetically petty over every little thing. While he’s eating, he feels a pulsing, a few knocks at his chest, jostling him around on the inside. He realizes it’s Jihoon’s magic entity nudging at his own in their inner world, both still closed off from each other. He lets out a long sigh, mumbling lowly. “Maybe I could actually help you if you didn’t block me out as soon as you entered your room last night.”

 

“What?” A voice brings him out of his thoughts, Donghan looking at him curiously.

 

Woojin’s eyes dart away, repeating, “What?”

 

“You were talking but no one said anything.” Donghan says, confusion clear in his voice.

 

“Oh,” Woojin forces an awkward chuckle, “I must have been talking to myself out loud.”

 

Donghan raises a brow, “It sounded like you were directing it towards Jihoon.”

 

Woojin opens his mouth but nothing comes out, then clamps it shut again. They were getting awfully transparent with this whole situation, and it was clear that Donghan knew _something_. But before any of them could confront it, the room is interrupted by a frantic shouting Hufflepuff. “It’s crazy out there I’m tellin’ ya! Noah Vaan fell off his broom, they’re rushin’ him to the hospital wing. And I think a second year Slyth was injured too.”

 

“What’s happening?” Jihoon asks, and Woojin spots the flash of worry in his eyes. Woojin gets up and rushes to the other side of the Hall to where the Hufflepuff does a dramatic retelling of his story. 

 

“What are you going on about?” He asks the younger student, whose hands are jittery from the panic.

 

“Woojin! There was an incident on the quidditch field during our house’s practice.” The young boy tells him, “They were just going about their business, until we saw a flash, and Vaan was hanging off his broom, and then falling to the ground!”

 

Woojin feels his stomach drop, sneaking glances at Jihoon, who looks equally as troubled. “Holy shit, how bad was the fall?”

 

“He’d been closer to the ground because his broom was being weird and taking flying him all over the place! But it was still a long fall, I don’t know if he’s gonna be okay. And I forget his name, but a little Slytherin was injured too.”

 

Jihoon makes his way out of the hall immediately, dashing down to the infirmary with Woojin right behind him. Woojin knows what he’s thinking, he’d been thinking it himself. It doesn’t entirely make sense, why she’d go after some random people unrelated to Jihoon. But then again, she’s been lying low for months, showing up scarcely to evoke panic, to implant an impending fear. And maybe her game is finally starting.

 

When they reach the hospital wing, they see Noah Vaan, unconscious on the far end bed, a circle of people surrounding him. One of them, another young Hufflepuff on the quidditch team, spots them and immediately strides towards them, animosity clear on his face. “This is all your fault!” He spits out at Jihoon, who sneers back at the younger. Woojin steps in between them, attempting to calm the kid down. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t here, putting us all in danger!”

 

“Whoa, it’s not his fault!” Woojin gets defensive, glowering down at the younger boy. “Was he the one who hurt him?”

 

“No, but he’s he reason why Vaan is hurt.” The younger boy insists, crossing his arms angrily.

 

“You don’t even know who did it. How can you just assume it’s related to him?” His voice rises, the baseless accusation provoking him.

 

“Everyone knows he’s being followed by the Azkaban escapee.” A young Gryffindor jumps in from behind the Hufflepuff, looking equally as contempt. “What other explanation could there be? This wasn’t a careless student prank, it was a malicious attempt from an outsider.”

 

“And for what reason would she have to attack them? Why there and why now? How about you back up your arguments with evidence!” Woojin steps forward, seething.

 

Kingsley comes in between them before anything can transpire. Jihoon stays quiet throughout the whole exchange, walking away after Kingsley guides the two younger boys back to Vaan’s bedside. Woojin follows after him, grabbing him by the wrist to stop him.

 

"I know what you're thinking, so stop." Woojin tells him, guiding them away from the middle of the corridors.

 

"I loathe having to admit it, but that kid was right." Jihoon grits out quietly, "This is my fault." 

 

"It's _not_." 

 

"Why can't she just deal with me instead of going after other people?" The brunette fumes, “Why did any of this have to happen? Why did she have to ruin _everything_ all those years ago? Maybe if I wasn’t such a useless coward back then—”

 

“Stop, don’t think like that.” Woojin tries, in an attempt to stop the self-destructive thoughts before they could flood Jihoon’s mind. “You couldn’t have known she would do that, you’re not to blame for what happened that night.”

 

“But I could have done _more_.” He answers harshly, but the anger is directed more towards himself than towards Woojin. “I could have done _so_ much more and I guess I never learned from it because I'm still the same fucking coward I was then." 

 

“Jihoon, nothing is forever.” Woojin interjects, “We can’t be thirteen our whole lives. We can’t keep dwelling on these tragedies and blaming ourselves for them. Because we’re not those people anymore, what’s important now is who we’re gonna be.” Jihoon stays quiet for a bit to catch his breath, and Woojin waits for him to come back down. 

 

“What happens to who we were?” He says in a way that intends for it to be a rhetorical question. The people they were would always exist, would always be a part of their past. They were what made them who they are, and as bad as things may have been then, things are different now, and could be so much more different later.  

 

“People get comfortable with what’s familiar. And when you get too comfortable, you don’t give yourself room to grow.” Woojin explains, “But we were given the chance to do so much more, to be so much more than the little kids we were all those years ago. We’re not going down without a fight, and you’re definitely not gonna go down alone.”

 

Jihoon lets his shoulder rest against the wall, looking like his legs are about to give out. He closes his eyes tightly, biting down on his lip. “Why do you stay?” He asks quietly, like a part of him doesn’t actually want to voice it. “After all of the threats and potential danger, after witnessing an _actual_ serious injury.” A heavy sigh escapes his lips, ‘Why do you stay?”

 

“Because we’re bonded.” Woojin says easily, but with the way Jihoon’s face drops by a fraction, he guesses it may not have been what he wanted to hear. “It won’t be dangerous because we’re stronger.” Woojin takes a step closer, “We’re gonna fight that battle and you’re not gonna push me away.”

 

The brunette falls into silence once more, hands placed in front of his body, closing him off. And then he’s pushing himself off of the wall, lessening the distance between them. “Why did you kiss me last night?” Jihoon searches his face, and Woojin gets the impression that he’s looking for something he’s already found, but still wants to hear. From him, honestly and openly.

 

The anticipation holds him in suspension, he inhales but doesn’t let it out. Because he freezes under Jihoon’s stare, full of hope, but at the same time, muddled with fear. His vision goes blurry for milliseconds at a time. _Calm._ He repeats in his head. Afraid to shatter the moment, he speaks quietly, “I think I have feelings for you.”

 

Jihoon stands still, but Woojin feels everything flood into him, an overwhelming surge of emotion that grounds him, makes him absolutely sure that this is what he wants to do.

 

The older is still blinking profusely, as if he can’t for the life of him comprehend the confession. “Oh.” He lets out breathlessly, his face dusted with that lovely shade of pink.

 

Woojin takes another step forward, and watches as Jihoon tentatively tilts his head up to look him in the eyes again. He inches closer, languidly, breaths shallow in case this is all a feverish dream that he’ll wake up from any second now. His lips are ghosting over Jihoon’s, so close that they’re practically touching. Jihoon attempts to make the last move, to close the gap, so Woojin stays still and lets him decide what he wants.

 

“Jihoon, there you are!” They’re jumping apart before they even reach other and Daehwi comes into sight, rushing over to them. “Do you wanna be late to class? Let’s _go_!”

 

“I—”

 

They meet eyes one more time, Jihoon’s fill up with regret, but he can’t say anything, and he doesn’t. Woojin feels Jihoon’s hand slip out of his grasp, and then he’s gone, taking the moment with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

destruction — ii.

 

 

Jihoon stays away from the Head dorm after classes end for the day, camping out in Daehwi and Jinyoung’s room, like he’d done a countless number of times this year. His friends maintain some sense of normalcy for a while, busying themselves in mundane discussion. But then Woojin’s name slips into the conversation and Jihoon is back to being on edge.

 

“Not to be all up in your business, but Jinyoung and I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling us.” Daehwi begins to pry, a mischievous smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

 

Arching one eyebrow, Jihoon questions their intrusiveness, “What are you talking about?”

 

“Daehwi, would you care to enlighten the pitiful pillock?” Jinyoung looks an ounce too satisfied with his alliteration.

 

“We’re talking about a certain _Gryffindor_ you’ve been cozying up to lately.” Daehwi sings, but his tone still somehow manages to be accusatory.

 

“And what’s the verdict?” Jihoon asks with a caustic tight-lipped smile.

 

“I like him, fifteen percent of the time, which I’m assuming you know by now, is pretty decent for my standards.” Daehwi answers, but Jihoon still isn’t sure why they’re bringing this up.  

 

Jihoon looks between them, questioningly. “So why should this matter to me?”

 

“Because we’re tired of the bullshit.” Jinyoung gets straight to the point, lips twitching when Jihoon narrows his eyes at him. “It’s disgusting to watch you two prance around your feelings as if the entire school hasn’t noticed by now your dramatic change in dynamic compared to third year.”

 

“Oh, so now you know how annoying it was for me to watch you two until your fifth year, pretending you weren’t stupidly in love, huh?” Jinyoung’s mouth snaps shut, the color draining out of his face.

 

“Is this you admitting it?” Daehwi is perpetually unaffected, still pressing the subject.

 

Jihoon rolls his eyes, “No, this is just me calling you out on your hypocrisy.”

 

“You know what would work wonders for you two and pretty much the rest of the school?” Daehwi begins, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “If we slipped some veritaserum into your breakfasts so you could finally fucking ‘fess up.”

 

Jihoon ignores the rush of heat to his face as he remembers the conversation he had with Woojin before he was pulled away to class by none other than Daehwi himself, who, by the looks of it, hadn’t even been paying attention when he dragged him away at what was probably the most vital moment of his life. Maybe if he had been a _little_ more observant, he’d actually have substance to his argument.

 

Jinyoung joins in, “No one’s stopping you from stealing a bottle from Caldwell’s office.”

 

“ _Me_. I am stopping you.” Jihoon snarls, threatening to kick Jinyoung in the shin. “Don’t you guys realize there are more important things going on right now? Two people got hurt today, and there’s no denying that Solanine could be behind it.”

 

The two younger boys sober at this, their previous feud put behind them. “That’s not your fault, Jihoon.” Daehwi asserts firmly, almost as if he couldn’t emphasize it enough.

 

“I’m the sole reason she even spared a second glance at this school.” Jihoon grits out, feelings his nails dig into his palms. “If I wasn’t here, this wouldn’t have happened and you _know_ it.”

 

Jinyoung steps in front of him, eyes growing serious. “You did not hurt Vaan, or Jairo.”

 

Jihoon rakes a hand through his hair in frustration, “I can’t deal with this.”

 

Jinyoung sighs heavily, head falling. “I’m sorry I can’t do more to help you.”

 

“I don’t expect you to fight my battle, Jinyoung.” Jihoon assures him, trying to pull himself together. “I know you want to help, but not even _I_ know what to do with this situation.”

 

Jihoon hates the helpless looks on his friends faces, hates that he feels helpless with them. It’s an unavoidable fate, a daunting inevitability that none of them can change, they just have to be ready for it.

 

Confrontation is just a thing of the day, apparently, because not too long after he leaves Daehwi and Jinyoung’s room, he runs into Donghan in the common room, and he’s insistent on making him talk.

 

“You are really just not good at hiding your emotions anymore.” Donghan picks him apart immediately after they take a seat on the leather couches.

 

“Well sorry if my impending doom is throwing me off my routine recently.” He says in a joking tone, but no one seems to want to take things lightly today.

 

“You’re not alone, you know that right?” Donghan articulates, resting a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder.

 

Jihoon bites down on his tongue, trying to fight off the oncoming coarse tone, “I _know_ that. I know that you and Jinyoung and Daehwi and Woojin all just want to help! But as stubborn as you guys are, I don’t want to put you in danger and I _won’t_. So until this gets settled, you need to stay away.”

 

Donghan lets his arm fall from his shoulder, then brings his hands up to run down his face, frustrated.

 

“How could you choose _now_ to push people away?” Donghan’s voice is harsh, and Jihoon can feel the other’s temper rising. “How could you, after slowly beginning to open up, after starting to let yourself feel things other than sadness and anger choose now, when you have so many people willing to protect you, to run away?”

 

Jihoon grimaces at his sheer disappointment in Donghan’s voice. The last thing Jihoon wants is to revert back to how he used to be, scared of opening up and letting people in. He’s never felt so free, didn’t know how amazing it could feel to have people around him know who he is, accept him as he is, and love him for everything he is. But all he’s ever known is running away and so that’s what he continues to do.

 

Donghan resumes when Jihoon refuses to speak up. “This is hard on you, and I can’t imagine what it feels like. But you _have_ to let us help you. We want to help you, and that’s our choice and not yours.”

 

Jihoon exhales sharply, his stomach twisting, coiling inside him. “Woojin and I have a soulbond.” The words slip out before he can catch them, though he’s unsure of why they’d chosen this moment.  He’d been wanting to tell him for a while now, but he never really knew how to bring it up. Maybe he just needed to throw it out there without a single thought.

 

Donghan’s eyebrows furrow the slightest bit, mouth parting, but the reaction is nothing even close to what someone who hadn’t a single indication of the idea would show. “I figured something was going on, but I’ve never heard of a soulbond before.”

 

“We didn’t either, but after Woojin’s seventeenth birthday, something happened up in the Astronomy tower and gave us these.” Jihoon pushes up the sleeve of his shirt and shows Donghan the mark. “It’s the reason we started being civil to each other in the first place.”

 

Donghan purses his lips, examining the mark thoughtfully, “So, when I was up in the tower with you guys that one time and we saw that ball of magic, you two created that?”

 

Jihoon nods, pulling his sleeve back down. “The bond gives us quadrupled magical energy, every spell we cast together is stronger than normal.”

 

“Isn’t that enough reason to keep him by your side then?”

 

“I can’t stop him, I know there’s no stopping him.” Jihoon acknowledges this, “But I need to do everything I can to lessen the pain before anything can happen, before he gets too attached.”

 

“He already is.” Donghan states firmly, “And your souls are bonded. No matter how much you try to make him hate you, that is what stands true. And nothing is going to hurt more than that, that pain will be inevitable.”

 

“Yeah, but—”

 

“Would you stop focusing of the ifs?” Donghan throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “You don’t know what’s going to happen, and he doesn’t either. The point is that you, and him, and all of us, go into this knowing what we want out of it, which is to keep you safe, and take her down. None of us know how this is going to end, but we’re going to see it through together.”

 

They let the quiet of the evening fall over them, the faint sloshing of the water around them. Things that used to be so serene and calming just aren’t anymore.

 

“So, is combined magic all you two can do?” Donghan speaks up again after a while, aiming to end the conversation on a lighter note.

 

“We have an inner world.” Jihoon says faintly, remembering the wonderful palette of that magical forest, colors leaking into the once bleak space. “We can meet each other there.”

 

“And you read minds.” Donghan phrases it as more of a statement than a question, but with what Woojin had said during lunch earlier that day, it wasn’t so much genuine question as it was a confirmation.

 

“Each other’s.” Jihoon corrects him, “But I’m blocking him out right now.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

Jihoon’s voice catches in his throat, reminded very clearly of the explicit details of last night. Woojin couldn’t know about the way his heart had palpitated, ran so fast it could burst out of his chest the moment he’d closed his door. Jihoon couldn’t keep Woojin up all night with the anxiety fluttering in his stomach, rippling down his spine and sending him into freezing waters to fend for himself, gain back the feelings in his limbs. Try as Solanine may, Jihoon would always be his own worst enemy.

 

“I don’t know.” He settles for, none too embarrassed.

 

Donghan gives him a sad smile, “I think you do.”

 

"I think you all have too much faith in me." He breathes out, having no more fight left in him. 

 

"I think you are so much more than you give yourself credit for." Donghan says, letting the words hang over him. He puts a hand on top of his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "And I'm going to stand by that Jihoon until the very end." 

 

 

 

 

 

Jihoon’s feet wander before he knows where they’re taking him, and he ends up in the all too familiar tower, mind occupied without a second to unwind. Every time he tries to relax, Donghan’s annoying nagging flitters back into his head, voice booming with everything he should be finding answers for, everything he needs to stop running away from.

 

_I think you do._

 

Donghan hadn’t even known about the whole kissing ordeal, and still, he’d seen his turmoil, saw through his front and refused to put up with it for a second. 

 

The fact of the matter is that he _likes_ Woojin. More than he thought he ever would. He doesn’t know the when’s and the how’s and sometimes not even the why’s. All he knows is that he feels safe around him. He knows that after walls and walls that have crumbled down before, Woojin is one who could actually stand a chance, who could be unrelenting and immovable in the face of Jihoon’s ruthless storms.

 

And Woojin, with that damn bloody fearlessness, had told him that he liked him too, showed him that even with all the mistakes his recklessness would get him into, this wasn’t one of them. Choosing him wasn't a mistake. Woojin always seemed like the one person Jihoon would never be able to figure out. And yet red stumbles out of him, seeking other lives to color with his honesty and gallantry, dripping down blank canvases to portray all the different sides of him that make him Woojin.

 

It should be a relief that settles his heart, because with just this one thing considered, it’s what he wants. Normalcy, bliss, Woojin. This is all he wants. But he’s not sure he wants to live with the regret that may follow if he ever allowed himself peace of mind in this state.

 

His heart hurts the more he looks at Woojin. The more he wants to be held by him, to just lie with him and forget about all the pain and the suffering because Woojin could make him ponder on galaxies of possibilities and the vastness of space and the idea of extraterrestrial life for hours and hours and he would be happy. He could be happy. He _wants_ to be happy.

 

But he has to stop thinking about him. The less he does, the more he can convince himself that this is for the best. It feels like they’re holding up a white flag before there’s even a fight to surrender to, but until they’re able to overcome this obstacle, given that they actually do, they have to ignore the whatever it is that they feel for each other. Right now Woojin needs stability, needs faith that they’ll make it out of this okay and that Jihoon would be fine, and Jihoon isn’t sure he can give that to him. And he doesn’t like making promises he can’t keep.

 

When he decides he’s not ready to go back to the dorms, he continues to walk, blindly without a plan, onto some random patch of field to stare at the night sky. He walks, and walks and walks, until something stops him dead in his tracks.

 

“ _Jihoon_.”

 

He turns pale at the utterance, cold fear creeping up his spine, a sense of dread numbing his entire body. Flashes of blood, and screaming, and death run through his mind all at once, the memories so overwhelming that he almost falls to the ground with them.

 

The footsteps creep closer, so faint against the grass that he almost can’t hear them, doesn’t know how long it’ll take for them to reach out and grab at him. He tries to make a break for it.

 

He runs, he fails,

 

and then nothing.

 

Jihoon’s first memory is of locked doors.

 

He is barely four years old, tiny hands climbing up still wood to reach the silver keeping him from everything that everyone else can see. Strong hands pick him up before his fingers can grasp the metal, pulling him away from the realm of reality he’s not quite ready to step into. He grows up to know those arms belong to his father, cropped black hair barely holding onto the last of its color and a crooked smile that isn’t foreign to him in the first few years he sees it.

 

He is seven when his father first starts to pull away, still standing close that Jihoon can make out the almond shape of his eyes and the roughness of his skin, but not close enough that he can reach out and take his hand, pull him back and ask him to be nearby in case the monsters under his bed wish to see the light.

 

It’s not intentional and he knows this, so he doesn't hold it against him. Adults are busy, have their own issues they get caught up in and it’s not Jihoon’s fault. It’s not his fault. A mantra that he repeats in his head, the idea that maybe if he says it enough he can speak it into existence.

 

It’s not his fault.

 

He is eleven when he starts to feel like his own person, like a thousand doors of opportunities have opened up in front of him all at once and let him venture in on his own, because all of these experiences are meant to be his own. He occasionally comes across letters, of good wishing and affection that he couldn’t get from anyone else but her. He keeps her up to date with his accomplishments, his friends, and tells her that even though school is fun and new and fascinating he still wishes he could visit home and see her. She tells him that when the school year ends she’ll be at home, waiting to welcome him with open arms.

 

He is thirteen when he truly understands loss. Understands pain, and suffering, and anguish to its very core. It’s excruciating, like ashes burning into flesh and leaving behind an ingrained scar, an ugly reminder of something he wishes he could carve out of his memory, even if it would leave him with a gaping hole that he could never fill. There’s a house. A little more than modest, built atop a hill with tall pointed gates around its perimeter. It’s warm, familiar, intimate. It shelters him from the vehement winds and crying skies, it’s a home. There’s a breach, a peril that’s swift and deliberate, tiptoeing in and breaking everything in its wake.

 

Shrilling, wailing.

 

Fury, vexation, rampage.

 

Green.

 

It crumbles, piece by piece until there’s nothing left of it, like it was built to create a home, construct a stronghold, and then destroy itself and everything in it. Like it was made to be broken.

 

Sixteen and he feels like the world is going to cave in on itself. Lost in the perpetuity of woes and sorrow, an unending cycle of misery that repeats, and repeats, and never gets better.

 

No one tells him what he’s supposed to do with a mind he can’t control. As the days go by it feels like he has less and less handle of something that belongs solely to him, something that’s so capable of peace and compassion, yet chooses to antagonize itself. Sadness clings to him like moss to stone, poison ivy lacing its vines around his neck. It’s like oxygen has become hope, and he’s constantly thrashing around to find enough of it to keep himself breathing. It’s an invisible enemy that wins every time he tries to fight it, catches him every time he tries to run. It sneaks up on him slowly, adamantly, and now it won’t let go.

 

Wherever he is, be it in the corridors of the castle or the busy lantern-lit streets lined with stores, he feels haunted. What is it about the night that scares people deep inside? When the switch turns off, the fear takes over. The naivety of only having to worry that the monsters under your bed might come for you, what do you do when you realize that the real monsters aren’t the ones under your bed, but the ones who hide in plain sight? 

 

He is seventeen when he realizes it’s a _blink and you’ll miss it_ kind of life. He opens his eyes for the first time with everything at his fingertips. He looks and everything becomes nothing. Happiness is never permanent, always fleeting. He blinks and past his eyelids there’s a blinding red light. The darkness doesn’t clear, and neither does the pain.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Heart racing, sobs wracking and desperate clinging onto consciousness.

 

Four.

 

Five.

 

Six.

 

Body sinking, hands shaking, breath trying to crawl its way up from searing lungs.

 

He stops counting but time doesn’t stop ticking. Is time a robber or is it what’s stolen?

 

He is seventeen when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

 

He is seventeen with love and support from various sources, with likes and interests, with exceptional grades and a bright future and a second chance at happiness and _he doesn’t want to die_. Not without a purpose, not like _this_.

 

He’s only seventeen when the fear of not being able to see another day utterly and wholly consumes him.

 

He breaks.

 

 

 

 

☾

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o o f  
> i really wrote this heap of sadness on my birthday
> 
>  
> 
> by the looks of it, i think there is one more chapter left to go! if it gets too long, i may split it in two, but it will all be posted on the same day, so get ready for that!
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on my archive/update/au twitter if you would like to stay updated on my progress towards this fic, as well as my other works [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of the finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited bc i rushed to get it finished before the 31st oof
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: scenes of psychological and some physical torture and violence, please be sure to skip what could be triggering to you!

 

benighted (adjective).  
**\ be·night·ed | bi-ˈnī-təd \**  
overtaken by **darkness**

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

benighted — i.

 

_scars deepen  
and beg for sleep_

 

 

 

It’s in the dead of night when Woojin feels a sharp piercing in his body, an overwhelming sense of fear and pain. He blames in on the nightmares. And it’s not until morning, when he’s fully awake does he realize that something isn’t right.

 

The fear is still there, though very faintly, settled in his stomach even as the nightmares have passed. When he focuses on it, it feels distant, like it’s not completely his own. On instinct, he springs out of bed and rushes towards Jihoon’s room with a daunting feeling. Without any regard for the possibility of him just overreacting, Woojin bursts into Jihoon’s room, eyes frantically darting around for any signs of the brunette.

 

He doesn’t find any.

 

His bed is fully made, like he hadn’t even slept in it.

 

Woojin had fallen asleep early, he doesn’t even know if Jihoon had come back. Letting his worry take his feet across the castle, he runs down to the Hall to search for Jihoon’s friends. Luckily, he spots them all before they can enter the hall, ushering them to an empty area in the corridor. “Is Jihoon not with you guys?” He feels even more restless with the absence of Jihoon among his friend group. If he wasn’t in the dorms, or with his friends, then where could he be?

 

A beat as he braces himself. But Daehwi only shakes his head, “No, did you not see him in the Head dorms?”

 

“He wasn’t there when I woke up. His bed was completely made, and I can’t tell if it had even been used or not.” There’s a peculiar kind of emptiness in his chest, so hollow and void of warmth. It’s impossible to stop the trembling of his fingers, the clenching of his teeth.

 

Jinyoung furrows his brows, “He had to have slept there, he didn’t come to the dungeons.”

 

“Not even this morning?” Woojin starts to feel desperate by the minute, almost pleading with his words, for anyone to have at least _seen_ him today. Jinyoung shakes his head and Woojin’s heart plummets to the ground, raking a shaking hand through his hair. “Um, has anyone been to the Astronomy tower today?”

 

“I was near the area and asked someone coming down from the tower if they’d seen Jihoon up there, but they didn’t.” Donghan tells him, looking equally as uneasy.

 

“I felt something during the night, and it wasn’t good but I blamed it on the nightmares and I didn’t even stop to think that it could be about Jihoon and I _should_ have. This might be my fault, I just need to know if he’s okay.” Woojin stammers out, gripping at the sides of his robes.

 

“Woojin, calm down.” Daehwi coaxes him, “What do you mean you felt something?” It’s then that he realizes that none of them know what he’s referring to. That is, until he catches Donghan’s eye and sees something of recognition in them, comprehension.

 

“It’s one of the bond things, isn’t it?” Donghan says quietly, and Woojin draws in a sharp breath at the mention. “You guys can feel emotions?”

 

“Donghan, what are you talking about?” Daehwi’s face twists, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Yeah.” Woojin swallows hard, wincing at the recalling of the ache. “I could feel his pain. So bad that it was like a million needles were digging into my back all at once.”

 

Daehwi waves his hands wildly, looking utterly confused. “Okay, can someone explain?”

 

“We have a soul bond, me and Jihoon.” Woojin tells him, and both his and Jinyoung’s eyes widen at the confession.

 

“A _soul_ bond? You’re joking right? Do those even exist?” Jinyoung asks incredulously.

 

“I’m not kidding.” Woojin insists. “We found out in November. They don’t exist for everyone so only the people who have one know of its existence.” He huffs impatiently at the befuddlement on their faces. “Look, I don’t have time to explain it in detail right now but the fact is I can feel him through the bond. When we’re close, I can hear him, I can feel his emotions, and last night I felt so much of his fear that it seeped into my bones and I’m worried because I can’t feel him anymore. I can’t even see his magic in our soulscape.”

 

“This is bad.” Daehwi mutters, chewing on his bottom lip. “What if it’s—” He doesn’t finish his sentences because he knows that none of them even want to _think_ about it. But they’d all known what was to come, they just never really thought they’d have to make it to this point.

 

Donghan purses his lips, “Well, we’re gonna need more people for a search party than this.”

 

“We can’t tell Kwon, she won’t let us go.” Woojin disputes, “I need to see him myself, the bond will help me find him.”

 

“But Woojin it’s not safe—”

 

“I can’t just sit around and wait while Kwon sends other people to go look for him.” His voice rises, feeling frustrated. “I’ll go by myself if I have to, I just need to find him.”

 

“You’re not going alone.” Daehwi says firmly, “We’re coming with you.”

 

Woojin runs a hand down his face, “I won’t be able to face Jihoon if he knows I brought you guys along and put you in danger.”

 

“I had a talk with him yesterday.” Donghan jumps in, “I made it loud and clear that whether he likes it or not, we’re gonna fight with him. So he can be mad all he wants, but he’s gonna be even more thankful when we save his ass.”

 

Woojin works quickly to gather backup of his own, but not without giving them a full breakdown of what they were getting themselves into. Hyunmin, Jaehwan and Chungha stand by his side without a second thought, and with a leap of faith, Daniel and Yena join them too. 

 

Donghan suggests that they head to Jihoon’s manor first, that even if they weren’t going to notify Kwon, the least they could do for theirs and Jihoon’s safety was getting his father involved.

 

Woojin feels a prickling at his skin when he steps inside the manor, remembers the stories that Jihoon told him about, the things that happened in this very house. It’s eerie, walking down these halls, and finding that faded black head of hair that he’d seen briefly back in Hogsmeade, then seeing that scarred face up close in person. “What brings you children here, and during school hours might I add?” He stands almost contemptuously, with his hands held behind his back, chin lifted and nose pointing up.

 

Donghan steps forward tentatively, “Mr. Park, we think your son might be in danger.”

 

The old man unclasps his hands from his back and lets them fall to his side, exterior cracking the slightest bit. “Jihoon? What do you mean, where is he?”

 

“We don’t know.” Woojin speaks up quietly, “He wasn’t in his room this morning, and he didn’t sleep in the dungeons. We haven’t been able to find him at school, and we think,” He stops himself for a moment, wincing when the name escapes his lips, “Solanine might have been behind it.”

 

Jihoon’s father’s face grows darker, stepping closer towards them and Woojin has to resist the urge to back away. “I don’t know why you two are out here and without permission it seems like, but I request that you two not be rash. I will gather people to set off on a search.”

 

“We..” Donghan starts sheepishly, “Kind of already have a group of people waiting outside to go look for him. And by the looks of it sir, it doesn’t seem like any of us are willing to stay still.”

 

“Donghan, I know that you have been Jihoon’s friend for a while but I assure you, your actions might put Jihoon in risk more than it will do him any good, and I do not want children roaming the wilderness calling out for my son.”

 

“With all due respect sir, your son’s safety may be in your best interest but he also means a lot to us.” Woojin says with increasing determination, “And I won’t stop looking for him, no matter who tells me I shouldn’t.” Woojin casts a look towards Donghan, who nods. “We’ll go on ahead, we’re going to do our best to find him.”

 

“That bloody recklessness..” The man mutters, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. “Very well, go on then. But I assure you, if your actions put my son in any more danger, there will be consequences to pay.”

 

Woojin scrapes his teeth against his lip, nodding firmly. “We’re not going to let that happen.”

 

The two of them exit the manor and regroup with their friends just outside of the gates. “I know we want to find Jihoon, but we’re kind of walking into this without a plan. How would we even know where to look?” Daniel questions, and the group exchange uncertain glances.

 

It takes Woojin a few seconds to look to his arm, hastily pulling up his sleeve. The needle is settled on the North, but it makes no signs of moving. He tries to circle slowly, watching the mark intently. And then there’s a pulsing, a brief, subtle pulsing when his body is pointed in the direction behind them. The mark gets lighter with every beat. “I think this mark helps me figure out his direction.” He says, not completely confident, but it’s all they have to go by.

 

“What is it?” Chungha questions, examining the mark on his arm.

 

“It’s a compass.” Woojin answers, “I was never really sure why, but I guess this is what it’s useful for. There’s a pulsing when I stand in this direction, and the pulsing stops when I turn elsewhere.”

 

Donghan squints his eyes at the mark, “It’s not hindered by distance like the rest of your abilities? And you’re sure it’s the mark?”

 

Woojin nods. “I’m sure, it gets lighter with the pulsing. It has to be telling me where Jihoon is. Mental reserves may be limited to distance, but I guess direction has more range.” 

 

Donghan decides to trust him, motioning for the rest of the group to follow them. “Alright, let’s get a move on.”

 

Woojin doesn’t know how long they walk on in that same direction, some minutes, some hours, he doesn’t know. But he doesn’t stop. The restlessness is terrible, a treacherous search for something he doesn’t know when he’ll find or if he can before it’s too late. The thought tramples over him again and again, leaving him crawling on the ground, desperate to pick himself up.

 

He walks with his heart lodged in his throat, it takes a staggering amount of effort for his legs to keep from giving out under him. The distance makes him feel so empty, so incomplete. Without him he’s a dissonant melody, almost unrecognizable. The guilt spills out fretful sighs, while the darkness feeds on his broken cries. He knows that he would have had to face this obstacle in their life at some point, but he’s damn well not ready to lose Jihoon for good, and it scares him thinking that tonight might be it.

 

In the midst of his jumbled emotions, he feels a soft touch, a small hand gripping onto his own. He looks to his left and sees Daehwi, who casts him a nonchalant glance as he continues to hold his hand through it. They walk for a while longer until Woojin starts to feel so dizzy he almost faints. Daehwi suggests that they take a break, then moves him to sit on the logs to restore his depleted energy.

 

Woojin takes a shuddering breath once he sits down, hands coming up to rub at his temples. Donghan brings along Jaehwan, Chungha and Jinyoung further into the forest to continue searching while they rest. Woojin hates the feeling of doing nothing, doesn’t want to waste a single second putting Jihoon through whatever pain he’s experiencing.

 

Daehwi, who’s sitting beside him, tries his best to encourage him. “You said your bond is powerful, right? As soon as we get closer to him we’ll be able to find him through you. Don’t lose hope.”

 

“Wait did he say bonded?” Daniel interrupts them, confusion on his face.

 

Hyunmin’s eye widen in delayed surprise, “What? You’re soul bonded with Jihoon?”

 

“Where were you two when he was talking about his mark earlier?” Daehwi questions their cluelessness.

 

“They were sword fighting with their wands.” Yena answers with an eye-roll. “So, Woojin. How did this whole soul bond thing happen?”

 

Woojin goes through the story, from the wind in the Astronomy Tower, to the nights of endless researching and practicing, to the discovery of their soul and mindscapes and their combined magic.

 

Hyunmin’s mouth hangs open slightly, dumbfounded at the discovery. “Whoa! So lke what happens when you shag?”

 

“ _Hyunmin_.” Daniel and Yena both chide the same time, Yena smacking him in the arm.

 

With his head hung low, he remembers the night they kissed. It had only been two nights ago, when everything had shifted, when things had started to fall into place after months of uncertainty and disorientation hanging over them. “There’s a spark.” He says softly, causing the quiet bickering of the group to halt. His lower lip quivers and he bites down to stop it. “When you kiss. Like this feeling of wholeness, a sense of completion that nothing else can compare to.”

 

The air goes still, and Woojin takes the time to focus on his breathing, steadying himself.

 

A few minutes later, he sees Donghan emerge from the forest, jogging back towards them “There’s like a huge abandoned-looking building or something just at the other end of the forest, we think there could be people in there.”

 

It grows dark as they meander through the forest, Woojin doesn’t even need to see his friends’ faces to know they’re on edge. The heaviness pushes down on them when the building comes into sight, and the sick feeling inside of him grows with the thought of Jihoon possibly being kept up in the place. We’re too big of a group to search this place together, I think we should split up. Hyunmin, I want you guys to circle around the other side, find an entrance point and don’t be raucous with it.” Woojin turns to Donghan, Daehwi, and Jinyoung. “You guys come with me around the front, and please, everyone, be careful. We don’t know what’s in here or if there’s anything in here, but one thing I’m sure about is that I’m not losing any of you today.”

 

Woojin leads Jihoon’s friends towards the side of the building as stealthily as they can, laying low the whole way. Daehwi follows just behind him, grabbing onto his shoulder when he nearly trips. Woojin watches him wince, then his eyes fall down to where Daehwi is circling his foot by his toes, seeming to have twisted it slightly.

 

“You okay?” Jinyoung asked worriedly, slinging an arm around Daehwi’s waist to support him.

 

Daehwi waves an arm, defusing their worry. “I’m good, it was just a slight misstep.”

 

There’s no time for Woojin to brace for the income of pain that shoots through him just as he reaches the wall, causing him to crash shoulder first into the concrete. It throbs in his head, stabs at his chest, and crushes his ribs. He lets out a strangled cry as he slides to the ground, clutching at his stomach. Donghan ruses towards him, hands frantically trying to hold him up. “What’s going on?”

 

It’s a searing pain that he can’t quell though he tries.  Resistance is futile, so he lets his body go limp, slumping against the wall and fighting to find air. “I can feel him.” Woojin croaks out weakly, grinding his teeth together as his body convulses. “He’s.. not doing well..”

 

“Do you hear him? Can you find him in your inner world?” Daehwi frets, hands moving around in hopeless motions.

 

Woojin shakes his head weakly, “He’s still blocking me out.” He grimaces again, tears springing to his eyes. “We need to hurry.”

 

 _I can’t climb your walls Jihoon._ Woojin relays desperately. _Please break them down for me._

 

 

 

 

 

benighted — ii.

 

 

Jihoon has no way of knowing exactly how long he had been held in this dark room, a single dim light in the center, completely walled in with a heavy looking door to his right that doesn’t seem like it’ll be easy to escape through. He feels the ropes scrape against his wrist when he tries to move, wincing at the roughness.

 

“You’re still a weak and wasteful wizard, aren’t you?” He lifts his head slowly to the voice on his left, terror burying itself in his bones, slithering under his skin. He sees the long dark hair, the pointy black wand, and that menacing smile, and he’s never felt so helpless. “Falling in and out of consciousness, taking away all of my fun.”

 

Jihoon groans the second he tries to move his body, aching everywhere. There’s a throbbing at the back of his head and a dull ache in his stomach. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

 

“This is no good.” Solanine clicks her tongue, crouching down and lifting his chin up with his wand. “If you can’t find your voice, how am I supposed to enjoy hearing you beg for your life?”  

 

He parts his lips again, feeling a stinging just next to his mouth. “What—” He pushes out just barely, leering at her through his half-lidded eyes. “What do you want… from me? From my family..?”

 

“What do you think?” She murmurs as her fingers drift across her wand, “Surely your current state has to give you some idea.”

 

“What, you’re gonna kill me and then kill my father, too?” His struggle against his rope increases. “Is that how you think you’ll find peace of mind for your husband?”

 

“I don’t want to kill him. I want to make him suffer.” She corrects  I want to make him hurt a thousand times worse than the suffering he caused me, and then he’ll know what it feels like to have everything taken away from you. You see, when you find what it is that someone loves the most, is the moment you can destroy them.” She explains with morbid pleasure, “Your father is gonna come running down to find you, and when he does, he’ll get to watch the show firsthand. And you, my dear boy, will willingly be the sacrifice to my little game.”

 

“You’re a bloody lunatic.” He spits out with as much hate as he can muster, head falling onto the wall behind him. “And what do you get?” He whispers brokenly, “A minute of fulfillment? Temporary peace after revenge? Even if you do kill me, there’s no fucking way you’ll get away with it. They’ll just toss you back in Azkaban and you’ll continue to live the rest of your life imprisoned and alone.”

 

“You don’t get it, do you?” She laughs quietly, “You’re the same clueless and insolent child you were four years ago. There’s no life left for me to live. I have nothing to lose, but your father, he still has you. And I’m not gonna let him live with that. I’m gonna enjoy this revenge for a long, long time.”

 

“All he did was protect his family.” Jihoon doesn’t want to sound pleading, doesn’t want to give her any kind of satisfaction of breaking him. But every time he hears her voice, sees her face, he sees the moment he’d lost his mother, sees it vividly, every second of it running through his mind. He doesn’t want to break, but he thinks he might already be broken.

 

“All he _ever_ did was protect his family. And to do that he didn’t mind ruining everyone else’s lives in the process.” She sneers as she leans down, sending a chill down his spine and turning him rigid when she looks him dead in the eye with so much malice. “He’s selfish. Egocentric. _Barbarous_. He’s a _coward_ , and you’re going to pay the price for it.” The harsh lines on her forehead relax, her face slowly morphing into something of amusement. “You don’t exactly have a place on this world either, do you?”

 

“I know damn _fucking_ well I deserve a place here more than you do.” He grits out through his teeth. “After all you’ve done, you don’t deserve—” A piercing pressure on his neck cuts off his words, as he pushes as far back into the wall as he can when her wand comes up to his throat, choking him. He pants heavily, hands wriggling against the ropes around his wrist.

 

“Tell me, Jihoon. Who’s fault is it that your mother died?”

 

“Y-Your—” She digs the tip of her wand further into the sensitive skin, and he struggles to swallow at the angle of his throat, exposed and bruised. He lets out a wracked sob, shutting his eyes.

 

“Who’s is it?” She demands again, “You were completely able that night, were you not? You had your wand in your hand, you had an _opportunity_. You didn’t take it.” Jihoon’s nails press harshly into his palms, a tear forcibly escaping his eye. “You just stood there, _uselessly_. You watched your mother die and you did nothing about it.”

 

“N-No..” He chokes out, head falling forward and gasping heavily when she releases her wand from his neck. He sniffles, coughing hard with heaving breaths.

 

“You killed your mother, Jihoon.” She whispers, a wicked grin on her face, basking in her sadistic glee. The words glide through his flesh, like a hot knife cutting him open. “ _You_ did.”

 

“It wasn’t _my fault_!” Jihoon screams out, head falling onto his knees. “It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t…” He repeats, obstructing her manipulation. She seems to have gotten tired of his persistence, ordering one of her lackeys to keep an eye on the door as she leaves the room. For a while he just lets himself cry, curling into himself and falling into the darkness.

 

He wants to be selfish. He wants to live through this, he hadn’t realized just how much he has yet to do. He’d learnt what it felt like to be alive again, sought solace in his friends because they told him time and time again that they were tried-and-true, that they would be with him to the very end. But this can’t be the end, it can’t be. He has to graduate, has to make himself known to the world for something other than a kid with a pitiful past and a threat hanging over his head, has to keep his promise to Woojin. They had yet to even utilize their combined powers, they were only on the tip of discovering all of the aspects of their soul bond. Jihoon hadn’t even told him how he felt about him. There’s so much left for him to do and he _needs_ to get out of here.

 

It’s not until he starts to feel something pang in his chest, something he knows isn’t his own, that he finally lifts his head, looking around though he knows he can’t find it. He runs through the possibility, but he finds it rather impossible. Still, he calms himself down enough to focus on his mind,  trying to find that something somewhere else. He feels a knocking, like something’s desperately trying to get in. His feels like magic inside of him pulsing, and the hollowness he’d felt before starts to fill up.

 

_Woojin?_

 

He relaxes into his mind completely, unblocking him, searching frantically for his voice.

 

_Jihoon! Jihoon, can you hear me?_

 

Jihoon almost breaks down again at the sound of Woojin’s voice. He scrambles to his feet, though one is harder to stand on than the other. _How are you here? How can I hear you?_

 

 _I’m here. I looked for so fucking long to find you_. When he hears the pain in Woojin’s voice, it crushes his heart even more. Jihoon draws in a shaking breath, trying to reign in his panic as he works to find any memory he might have of being somewhere else in this building before he’d gotten thrown in here.

 

 _Are you alone? How did you find this place? Please be careful, Woojin. Please._ Jihoon fills to the brim with worries, not knowing for sure how many of Solanine’s men are roaming the place but knowing Woojin wouldn’t be able to take them all by himself.

 

_You think I’d walk into the devil’s den alone? I have backup, we’ll be okay. I promise we’ll get you out of there._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ☾

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of the finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: please read the tags for any possible triggers!

 

destiny (noun).  
**\ des·ti·ny | ˈdes-tə-nē \**  
something to which a person or thing is destined: **fortune**

 

 

* * *

 

   

 

destiny — i.

 

_you’re my destiny_

_my light that you have revealed_

_will not go away_

 

 

 

 

It takes considerably longer than a few minutes to make their way to a door while keeping out of the radar of Solanine’s lackeys walking around the front of the building and occasionally circling the entirety of it. Jinyoung finds the door, pulling it open bit by bit, rushing them in and making sure not to make a sound when he closes the door behind them. The hallway they walk into is dark, unlit except for the red light just above the door they had entered.

 

“Which way?” Donghan asks, gesturing to Woojin’s arm. Woojin pulls his sleeve up and faces the other side of the hall until he finds the pulsing and discoloring again. He motions for them to follow behind, staying close to the walls. As he’s careening a corner, he feels a hammering in his chest, frenzied and hectic. Something in his awareness shifts, like something had opened up inside of him, the fog clearing out.  

 

_Woojin?_

 

He stops in his tracks, the air rushing out of his lungs. _Jihoon! Jihoon, can you hear me?_ He sends the others a look, mouthing ‘I hear him.’ Jinyoung turns his head, making sure the coast is still clear as Woojin stops to communicate with Jihoon.

 

 _How are you here? How can I hear you?_ Woojin breathes a heavy sigh of relief, knowing that Jihoon was okay was exactly what he needed right now.

 

 _I’m here. I looked for so fucking long to find you_. He closes his eyes, the sound of Jihoon’s voice grounding him. Woojin tries to get Jihoon to lead him to where he is, though it’s not too easy being that he’s currently being held in a dark, closed off room with no way to see what’s outside. Still, Jihoon tries his best, his eyes having briefly caught the sight of a black statue when Solanine had left the room. The minute Woojin learned that Solanine had been in that room with him, cold air rushes over him. For the most part, Jihoon sounded fine. But Woojin is almost sure that he didn’t feel fine, or even looked it for that matter.

 

 _Wait.. there’s the sound of running water just outside this wall._ Jihoon relays. _It might be a water fountain, try to look for one._

 

Woojin keeps the rest of the group up to date with what Jihoon tells him, they’re all relieved when they find out that Jihoon is okay. But there’s no time to waste, so they continue down the hall, until they hear footsteps approaching from the other side. Woojin casts them a wary glance. There’s nowhere to hide from here, so he reaches for his wand and steadies himself, back pressed against the wall as he waits.

 

The second he sees a figure he flings his wand out from behind his back, sending them falling to the ground. When Woojin gets a better look, he sees the familiar brown head of hair, and rushes to pick him up. “Jaehwan?”

 

“Geez, we really need to get you glasses.” He rubs at his tailbone, when they get him back on his feet. Daniel quickly pushes them back past the corner, a finger coming up to his lips to quiet them.

 

“We heard some guys over there talking and they mentioned Solanine, there’s a good chance Jihoon’s locked up somewhere in this place.” Daniel explains in a hushed voice.

 

“We know, I found Jihoon in our mindscape.” Woojin tells them, “He says there might be a fountain outside the room he’s being kept in. We need to hurry.”

 

“We also need to be _careful_ ,” Chungha jumps in, wand still at the ready. “We managed to escape them earlier, but they definitely know that there are people here who shouldn’t be. Which means there will be a lot of guys on our tail, and possibly from every direction.”

 

“Did you come from the other end? Did you guys pass a fountain anywhere?” Daehwi asks them.

 

Yena shakes her head, “We came from the right, and we can’t stay here for very long, they’re going to be onto us soon.”

 

“We need to find the fountain but we can’t go around in this huge group, it’ll be easy for them to gang up on us, we’ll probably be outnumbered.” Woojin clenches his jaw, facing a dilemma. “I don't want to ask you guys to do this but I need you to go back and demobilized as many of those guys as you can. They’ll probably be coming around in smaller groups, it’ll be easier for us in the long run if you disarm small groups at a time.”

 

“Don’t worry Woojin, we know what we got ourselves into.” Hyunmin assures him, confidence burning in his eyes. “We can handle this. You guys go on ahead.”

 

Woojin takes Jihoon’s friends and continues in the direction of the mark. The next area they enter is lit up, and so seems to be the rest of the building down the hall. _Jihoon, you still holding on?_

 

 _I’m okay,_ Jihoon answers almost immediately. _but I hear talking outside of the room. And it sounds angry. Did you get figured out?_

 

_We might be compromised, but we’re not stopping._

 

As they reach the end of the hall, Woojin spots a structure with trickles of water falling down from it. Without thinking he tries to rush towards it, but Donghan pulls him back. Intent of getting out of Donghan’s grip, Woojin doesn’t notice the man clad in black, who catches sight of them just as he’s being pulled back. Scowling, he makes for them. There’s no second to react because the man is fast, whipping out his wand and uttering his spell. It hits Jinyoung, throwing him back. Woojin gets out his wand, holding an arm out to stop the others from continuing. The main raises his wand once more, about to speak the incantation, but before he can finish, a voice calls out for him to stop.

 

“Let me deal with them.” When he hears the clacking of heels, he knows just what he’s about to face. He looks up slowly, the blue dress swaying tauntingly. “Looks like his little friends have come to break him out.”

 

“Let him go. He’s done _nothing_ for you to hurt him.” Woojin bellows, fists clenching up.

 

Solanine turns to him, amused. “Oh, and who’s the red one over here?” When she gets closer, Woojin tries to disarm her but she blocks him swiftly, merely snickering at the measly attempt. “You don’t know anything, little Gryffindor. How could you tell me he did nothing?”

 

He tries again, but she’s quick, shielding herself from his attacks like they’re nothing but a minor inconvenience. He bristles after another failure, staying alert for when she decides to attack. He expects to be hit, but instead, before he can process it, her wand changes directions and shoots behind him. Woojin turns and watches Daehwi fly back against the wall, falling onto his hands and knees on the ground. He turns back with fury, her wand is already pointed at him, but before she can hit him, a red light shoots out from his side and blasts her away. Woojin turns to find a man in purple, and just next to him, Jihoon’s father, emerging from the other hallway.

 

“You rascals just used up the last of your luck.” Jihoon’s father badgers, as a group of people make their impeccably timed entrance from behind him just as more of Solanine’s men yell out for backup.

 

“Go now, Woojin!” Donghan yells at him, “He has to be on the other side of that door, we’ll hold them off.” Just then, he hears a loud voice yell _Confringo_ , and then the ground explodes, debris flying into the air and blasting people back. Woojin’s shoulder hits the wall behind him, but he takes the lower end of the damage. When the smoke clears, he sees Donghan on the floor, a broken piece of the statue puncturing through his chest.  

 

Woojin almost drops into a heap on the ground at the sight.

 

_No, no no no, please no._

 

He rushes back towards the older boy, dropping to his knees next to him, hands shaking as they hover over the chuck of marble piercing into Donghan. “No, no, Donghan, fuck, please don’t. _Fuck!”_ He grips hard at Donghan’s arms, shaking his head frantically. “W-We need to get you help, _now_.”

 

“Stop…Woojin...” Donghan wheezes out, color draining from his face at an alarming pace. The pain that strikes across his face at the slightest movement also digs into Woojin’s skin. “Don’t focus on me.. you need.. to find Jihoon..”

 

“Shut up, _shut up_!” Woojin shouts, rocking back and forth, body trembling. “Fuck, we need to get you out of here.”

 

Donghan shakes his head weakly, “Listen to me, Woojin.” He pleads, “Tell Jihoon not to blame himself, okay?” Woojin lets out a sob, hands gripping tighter. “I told him.. I’d fight for him until the end.. you guys need to make sure it ends.”

 

“Don’t talk, _stop talking_ , fuck..” Woojin blubbers, looking around wildly, calling out for help. “Someone, _please_..” And Woojin has seen injuries before. He can mend a cut, disinfect a wound, or nurse a sprained ankle. But he can’t fix this.

 

Daehwi and Jinyoung come rush to his side, crying wildly. “What,” Jinyoung’s words get caught in his throat, “H-how do we…” He trails off, hands recoiling from the marble as the cruel reality hits them.

 

“Woojin…” Donghan breathes out, each blink lasting longer. “You need to keep going…”

 

“I-I can’t, I—” He swallows hard, throat closing. “I can’t _leave_ you.”

 

“I’m okay.” Donghan says softly, “I’m okay... please, go..”

 

Woojin is having a hard time thinking straight past sobbing and wanting to scream and wail about how unfair it is that he feels so helpless right now, how fucking _revolting_ and harrowing it is that this is happening and all that runs through his mind is _God, please no, I’ll do anything just don’t take him away from Jihoon._

 

But he has to keep going.

 

He has to.

 

It takes every last bit of effort in him to tear away from Donghan, casting him one last glance and committing his sad smile to memory. He can’t walk straight, can’t see past his blurry eyes, but there’s black among the pale walls, and he takes his wand out and forces the door open, bursting into the room.

 

 

 

 

 

destiny — ii.

  

 

Woojin’s eyes are bloodshot when Jihoon sees him, still brimming with tears. There’s no time for questions though, because Solanine is one step ahead of them, a firm grip around his neck, pointing her wand tauntingly at Woojin. “Don’t come closer. The show isn’t over yet.”

 

Woojin meets his eyes, and then he hears his voice in his head. _Hey, hear me out._ Jihoon is frightened at the sheer agony in his voice, but he continues to focus on him. _I know you probably don’t have your wand right now, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead._

 

 _How can I do anything, Woojin? I’m powerless right now._ Jihoon’s pupils dilate in and out of focus, a stifled sound passing his lips.

 

_You don’t need your wand, just focus on me._

Jihoon whimpers when her grip gets tighter. _I’m not proficient in wandless magic yet, don’t trust me._

_I trust you, Jihoon. Trust yourself, please._ Woojin shields Solanine’s attack just barely, it’s clear he’s not in the right mind to be fighting but it’s not like they have a choice. Woojin relays the spell, and Jihoon closes his eyes and repeats it in his head.

 

_Expulso._

_Expulso_.

 

Jihoon knows that neither of them are putting all they have into it. They’re too panicked, too distracted and it’s not working. _Come on, Jihoon, you can do this, I know you can. You’re one of the smartest Wizards of our age, if anyone can defeat her, it’s you._

Jihoon steels himself with Woojin’s encouragement, taking deep breaths and settling his mind on the spell alone. His magic floats around the word, circling around it. Jihoon takes his magic away from the word, then sends it speeding straight towards it.

 

 _Expulso_.

 

His hand opens behind his back and a light flies past him, releasing Solanine’s hold of him and throwing her back with tremendous strength. Woojin casts _Relashio_ and releases him from the ropes binding his hands together, and Jihoon immediately runs over to Woojin’s side, a limp in his left leg. Quickly, he summons his wand, falling into stance.

 

Solanine snarls loudly when she gets back up on her feet, “You’ve been testing my patience, Gryffindor. You’ve outstayed your welcome.” She wastes no more time, sending various spells their way. Woojin shields them on his own for the first one, and Jihoon joins in, strengthening their shield the next time. This one lasts long enough for Woojin to disarm her from behind their joint protection, sending her wand flying across the room.

 

She growls, quickly summoning it back and hitting Woojin with _Impedimenta_ just as the shield evaporates. And then she’s lifting him in the air, hurling him across the room. Woojin groans when he falls onto his arm, clutching at his elbow.

 

Jihoon decides to lure her out of the room to give time for Woojin to recover. Except he sees what he shouldn’t, he sees what almost literally tears him apart, leaving a gaping hole in his heart. He sees his friends crowded around Donghan’s limp body, _grieving_. He lets out a whimper, hands trembling as he inches closer towards them. When Jinyoung spots him, his eyes widen. “Jihoon, watch out!”

 

He turns, sees a light coming towards him, and watches as a transparent wall reflects the spell just in time. He looks to see his father, and when he knows he can hold her off, he continues towards Donghan. Despair. Despair, and then it transforms slowly, into displeasure, and infuriation, and outrage.

 

A motive.

 

The anger blinds him, as he pivots away from Donghan and back towards Solanine. Resentment overpowers his mind, fists clenching and eyes flashing. But then there’s an intangible tugging, a pleading voice that slows his movement. _I feel your hatred. Don’t do it. Don’t do something you’ll regret._

 

 _I sure fucking won’t regret this._ He insists, but Woojin doesn’t take it.

 

 _That is not who you are, Jihoon. This won’t end the war inside of you, you’ll have to deal with your decision for the rest of your life._ Jihoon doesn’t want to listen to him, he wants vengeance. _This is exactly what happened to her back then._

 

Jihoon stops in his tracks, frozen with his words.

 

 _She killed when she was mad, and right now she’s using that resentment and that hurt to justify what she wants to do to you. Don't be her. You’re not her, Jihoon._ This sobers him just enough, his arms releasing their tension. Because it’s true, he knows it’s true.

 

He’s not like her, nor does he want to be. a

 

“You’re just in time for the show, Jungho.” Her eyes narrow at his father, watches as her face twitches at the sight of him. “There’s no shielding him now. You’d let your family die if it meant you’d stay alive, wouldn’t you?”

 

“I won’t rise to your bait, Grimm.” He keeps his voice steady. “You can tear me to shred but you won’t touch him.”

 

 _Let’s use our move._ Woojin invades his mind once more. _Before she can do anymore damage. Give it your all._

 

Jihoon looks towards the doors of the room, where Woojin steps out of, closely behind her, giving him a nod. He closes his eyes, lifts his wand, and waits for the pulsing cue.

 

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ They chant at once, red shooting out towards each other and coming to form that familiar gold. He hears Woojin say _once more_ , and so they shoot it again in the same direction, and the gold mass grows bigger than before, shimmering brightly. He focuses on it, sees it floating in his mind, and directs it towards Solanine. When he opens his eyes he watches as the magic sends her way, an enormous explosion filling the large room. It all happens in slow motion for him, the act of being blasted back from the immense force, watching as Woojin gets hit with the explosion, knocking him into a pile of rubble. He tries to scream but he can’t, and the light recedes.

 

The world goes black.  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Jihoon wakes when they get back to Hogwarts, the sun having come up during his unconsciousness. Kwon makes a speech in the Great Hall that afternoon, on the bravery of the students in the fight, and a tribute to Donghan, who had been killed during it. She speaks of Solanine, who has yet to wake up, the Ministry’s apology for allowing the escape to occur in the first place, and their plans for such an occurrence to never happen again.

 

(She’s set to receive the Dementor’s Kiss, he hears. A fate that not even vengeance can be satisfied through.)

 

He spends the next few days mourning alongside the rest of his house, conducting a funeral for Donghan as the whole school paid their respects as well. Woojin’s friends all come up to hug him at some point during the ceremony, and Jihoon thanks them for their contributions in his war. Hyunmin apologizes for not being able to do more, but Jihoon assures him that they had done all they needed to, and that’s what matters.

 

There’s an ache in his chest as he watches Donghan’s casket get lowered into the ground, tears silently falling down his face. He wishes he’d said more, wishes he could have told him everything he wanted to say, everything he couldn’t. He could only hope that Donghan knew, how much he truly meant to him, even when he hadn’t said it out loud.

 

Not letting him know would always be his biggest regret.

 

Jihoon is constantly in and out of the hospital wing, waiting for an unconscious Woojin to wake up. Woojin opens his eyes two days after Donghan’s ceremony, other injuries having been treated and still healing. Jihoon keeps him company until he’s ordered back to his dorm, while Woojin rested one more night in the infirmary.  

 

The next night, Jihoon finds himself sinking in his thoughts just before curfew, standing at the window of the Astronomy tower. His mind is filled with nearly everything that he feels like his brain might explode. But one thing that overbears the rest of them is that of a certain Park Woojin, who also happens to find him there, like he usually would, like he always does. “Hey, you scared me when I didn’t see you in bed. What are you doing here?”

 

He falls out of his trance, blinking owlishly as Woojin comes to stand beside him, arms propped onto the railing. Jihoon makes a noncommittal sound, shrugging. “Just thinking.”

 

He knows that Woojin knows exactly what’s going on his head, but he asks anyways. “About what?”

 

Jihoon lets a soft sigh escape his lips, “Everything that went on this week, the future.. us.”

 

“Oh.” Woojin says, shifting in his place. Jihoon can’t tell if it’s just a figment of his imagination or if Woojin is actually stepping closer towards him, doing nothing to help the pandemonium in his mind. Woojin’s fingers are tapping against the rail restlessly, his cheeks puffing out. “What about us are you thinking of?” He inquires slow and deliberate, words rolling carefully off his tongue.

 

Jihoon hums, unconsciously turning towards Woojin. “Just.. that I’m glad you showed up when you did, that you’re okay now, but I’m also confused, about where we go from here.” He admits openly, honestly. After all that's happened Jihoon doesn’t think there’s anything keeping him from laying it all on the line. Woojin nods thoughtfully, taking his words in.

 

“We’re not just bound by these.” Woojin points to the mark on his forearm. “This might have been our start, but this story is all on us to finish now.” He pauses momentarily to gather his thoughts, “It doesn’t have to be rushed. We’re still recovering from everything, and that's okay. Because I’m still here, and so are you. And what I feel for you is real, so whenever you’re ready, we can pick up where we left off before.”

 

Jihoon softens, feeling the color dust his cheeks lightly. “Thank you, for being patient with me.” They fall into a silence, looking out the window at the gently falling snow. He sees the moon, bright in the sky and wonders just how unappreciated its light is just because it’s only up when the world is asleep. “You know, some people think the moon is almost pointless, we don’t spend as much time with it.” Woojin begins, like he’d read his mind (Jihoon realizes that he may have actually read his mind.) “But you miss it when you’re not standing under its light. Because even on nights when it’s fractured it’s still there, listening to you when you can’t sleep, holding your stories and memories safe.”

 

He catches Woojin’s eyes and the something that passes between them. The blues and whites refract onto Woojin, glimmer in his chestnut brown. Jihoon wonders how brown could be so dull in him yet so mesmerizing in Woojin. “True, but it gets everything it has from the sun, it’s a group effort.” He sees the small smile dancing on Woojin’s lips.

 

Jihoon presses his temple against the wall next to him, his eyes feel heavy, hair falling into them. Woojin turns until he’s fully facing Jihoon, right arm leaning against the railing. Their eyes meet as Woojin tilts his head to look at him, and there’s a tugging at his heartstrings when he understands everything Woojin tries to convey without having to speak a word. _Thank you for being safe. I’ve missed you._

 

“How are your hands?” Woojin asks almost inaudibly, voice not completely breaking the silence, but rather floating on it. Jihoon looks down, the nail marks in his palms having faded a decent amount.

 

“Working on it. Doesn’t happen that much anymore.” Jihoon lifts his hands to show him.

 

“In the meantime, I can just do this.” Woojin reaches out to take Jihoon’s hands in his. Jihoon flinches a little, feeling apologetic the second it happens. But Woojin just pulls back slightly, searching his eyes. “It’s okay.” He murmurs, trying again, and this time Jihoon lets him. He feels exposed the second their fingers touch, unused to this kind of gentleness after all that’s happened, but welcoming it with all he has.

 

Jihoon chuckles softly, a loud pounding in his ears. “How long are you gonna be able to hold them?”

 

“For as long as you need.” Woojin mumbles, quiet but firm, eyes still fixed on his own. They look at each other for what feels like an eternity. He recognizes the vulnerability in them, the openness. He finds himself trusting the emotion enough to let his own guard down. Years of facades, months of walls and yet in this moment, Woojin is his safe haven. Woojin’s fingers draws circles into his palms, then up to his wrists with undefined lines, tracing around their compass. Jihoon’s skin burns and tingles everywhere Woojin’s touch goes, his warmth pressing against Jihoon’s cold hands.

 

Words don’t usually come to either of them in these moments, the ones late in the night when Jihoon can’t sleep and Woojin keeps him company, but they’re not needed either. Often times it’s just Woojin’s presence alone that’s comforting enough, his small touches that help him alleviate his thoughts. But something about tonight is different. He can’t bring his breathing back to a steady place, not when Woojin is looking at him like this, not when his gentle touches are throwing him into a frenzied mess. It’s a comfort but at the same time it’s a fire that ignites under his skin. A Woojin that’s soft around the edges is just as deadly as a Woojin with rough arrogance. Woojin squeezes Jihoon’s hand tightly, securely, and Jihoon doesn’t let go.

 

“Hey..” Jihoon breathes out, barely above a whisper. He swallows once, searching Woojin’s eyes.

 

“Hm?”

 

One second, three seconds, five seconds and his lips are on Woojin’s, a tingling wind enveloping them when they make contact. The moonlight tiptoes over their arms, dancing across their faces. He pulls back slowly, daring to open his eyes again. “Thank you.” Woojin whispers, their foreheads still pressed together.

 

“For what?”

 

Woojin smiles softly, nuzzling his head against him and lifting one hand from his waist to touch at the spot of his forearm where their mark is. “For being my soulmate.”

 

 

 

 

☾

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow.
> 
> this was a really difficult piece for me, filled with hours and hours of endless research, but we finally made it to the end. thank you all for sticking with me, and though this may be my last big 2park project, they will forever live on in my heart as soulmates.  
>  
> 
> !!! please check back for an epilogue, which will be posted in the near future, as i do feel like you all deserve a lot more of a look into their romantic development, and for a few more other things to tie this story up nicely! 
> 
>  
> 
> thank you so much for reading, and i'd love to hear your final thoughts in the comments! 
> 
> (you can also come yell at me for this ending on twitter [@byunderella](https://twitter.com/byunderella) and on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/byunderella))


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